


kiss the boy

by gasmsinc



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Crossdressing, M/M, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 14:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 39,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11037738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gasmsinc/pseuds/gasmsinc
Summary: The fish’s head is submerged completely under water. The only thing sticking out is the curve of its back, but Jonny can finally see why it’s stuck: there’s a fishing net hooked on a part of the rock.It’s then that the fish decides to move again. Its tail thrashes back and forth wildly, and in its panic the fish bangs its broken fin right into the rock. A series of air bubbles pop up to Jonny’s right, but he doesn’t have time to acknowledge how weird that is, because three seconds after the bubbles, a boy’s head pops out of the water.Jonny yells.





	kiss the boy

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, okay. 
> 
> So I started writing this fic back in July(?) of 2015, but because of the allegations against Patrick Kane in August I thought it best to put my fic away until that whole thing was cleared up. Afterwards my mind kind of forgot all about this fic, and then only recently I was inspired to finish it. 
> 
> The inspiration from this fic comes from essouffle's _**amazing**_ mermaid piece of artwork, located [here](http://essouffle.tumblr.com/post/98442046461).

Trust, Jonny decides, as he makes his way across the beach, burning his toes in the sand, is something that he and Juliette need to have a long talk about.

He can hear her barking at something just a little ways off, hidden from his view by a boulder. She’s found her way into the little natural nursery there, formed by a set of boulders and rocks.

Juliette’s probably found a school of fish. She’s too much of a wuss to get _in_ the water and chase them. She’s probably standing uselessly on shore, barking at the fish in hopes that they’ll come close enough for her to chase. The whole picture would be cute, if not for the fact that Jonny’s been calling her name for ten minutes now, and she’s broken the sacred pact of trust they’ve spent so long building.

It’s really not her fault, Jonny decides as he finally rounds the first boulder that forms the crescent creating the nursery. He must have not laid out the rules and regulations to being let off the leash on the beach properly. How can he except for her to follow the rules if he didn’t lay them out clearly?

“Juliette!” he calls when he spots her.

Juliette’s waded at least knee deep. Jonny’s heart swells a bit with unwanted pride. Juliette has a fear of water, and any willing steps she takes to conquer her fear makes his heart ping, but it can only ping for so long. The sand’s burnt his toes, and he can already feel his nose peeling.

“Juliette!” he calls again, this time with more authority. Juliette ignores him to bounce back and forth, barking at something just out of Jonny’s line of sight.

“Daddy’s really disappointed in you right now,” mumbles Jonny as he makes his way down to her. He hopes his disappointment can be heard over the sound of her excited barking.

Juliette stops barking when Jonny reaches her. Her tail goes back and forth rapidly, a loud whine emitting from her throat when Jonny latches her leash to her collar.

“Juliette,” he says sternly, making to head back up the beach, but Juliette stubbornly sets her feet in the sand, refusing to move.

“ _Juliette_ ,” he says again, irritated. “It’s time to go home.”

Juliette whines low in her throat, lying down. She’s not even looking at Jonny, just peering out into the nursery.

Jonny sighs, annoyed. There’s nothing out there, just the sea lapping against the many rocks, and what looks like a large school of fish swimming back and forth. “Juliette, we’re going home, _now_.”

Juliette still refuses to be moved. Jonny tugs on her leash as hard as possible. He manages to drag her, but then feels bad, because he’s dragging his _baby_.

“Seriously?” he says as Juliette’s ears perk up. She cocks her head at one particularly large rock not far from shore. She sticks her butt in the air playfully, hopping around, like she’s trying to get the rock to play with her.

Sometimes Jonny suspects that Juliette is a genius, and at other times—well, Jonny doesn’t mention the other times. “ _Juliette_.”

Juliette ignores him to lie back down. Whatever has caught her attention is something that she deems worthy enough to ignore him over, which isn’t like her at all. Juliette is kind and patient to a fault, a giant scaredy-cat who’s loyal and intelligent, and for the most part, listens to whatever command Jonny gives her. Whatever it is out there—if there even _is_ anything out there—has managed to override all of her training.

Jonny unclips her leash, making his way back up shore to plop uselessly in the sand. He can’t just leave Juliette here, despite how hungry he is; it fills him with anguish to have to drag her away—sand _hurts_.

“Juliette _please_ ,” he begs when she plops back in the water. She’s no longer staring at the rock close to shore, but at another, this one much, much closer and smaller. She goes quiet, ears back, tail completely still.

There’s a splash near the rock. Jonny drags his eyes away from Juliette too slowly to catch sight of whatever it was.

The entire beach goes quiet. Jonny stares into the horizon, until his eyes begin to hurt and then—there, right next to the rock, a fin pops up.

Jonny is no marine biologist, but he knows that the fin can’t belong to a shark or a dolphin. It’s not thick, or gray, but a bright blue-green, like a fish. The fin is flopped over, like the broken dorsal of an orca kept at SeaWorld.

The fin disappears.

At first, Jonny thinks that he might have imagined it, but soon enough an actual tail pops out of the water. A long, blue-green, scaly tail, before it falls back into the water with a loud splash.

Juliette doesn’t make a noise. Neither does Jonny.

He holds his breath, watching as the tail reappears. The opposite fin appears to be fine, normal and straight.

Jonny sets Juliette’s leash in the sand.

Juliette turns to look at him. Jonny presses his finger to his closed mouth, hoping that she’s smart enough to know what the gesture means. Juliette stays quiet, like the smart girl that she is, and goes back to watching the fish.

Whatever is out there seems distressed. The tail lifts and flops repeatedly, falling uselessly into the water over and over again.

“Stay here,” commands Jonny. He kicks off his sandals, patting Juliette’s head comfortingly. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as Jonny enters the water the fin disappears, but he knows exactly which rock to head to. The water is still shallow, even when he gets halfway to the rock.

The water’s up to his thighs, and he pauses to look back at the beach. Juliette is sitting up, watching him, but her ears are back, looking antsy. Jonny smiles at her, hoping that that will convey to her that it’s going to be okay.

At five feet away, the tail reappears, this time thrashing wildly. The creature is trying to get away, but it’s painfully obvious that it’s stuck.

Jonny pauses. He lets the fish thrash about until it finally stops, tail disappearing back under the water. He still can’t see the front of it. He stands there, hoping the fish has tired itself out. The fish thrashes angrily once more, before it finally seems to give up.

The fish’s head is submerged completely underwater. The only thing sticking out is the curve of its back, but Jonny can finally see why it’s stuck: there’s a fishing net hooked on a part of the rock.

It’s then that the fish decides to move again. Its tail thrashes back and forth wildly, and in its panic the fish bangs its broken fin right into the rock. A series of air bubbles pop up to Jonny’s right, but he doesn’t have time to acknowledge how weird that is, because three seconds after the bubbles, a boy’s head pops out of the water.

Jonny yells.

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

The boy stares at Jonny with wide, blue eyes. The net is covering his head, smoothing his bright, blond curls against his forehead.

Jonny stares back. The fish tail isn’t moving, but Jonny can see it floating, rubbing dangerously against the rock.

“What the fuck,” says Jonny.

The boy shrinks down.

“No, seriously,” says Jonny. “What the _fuck_.”

The boy’s eyes manage to get impossibly wider. He begins to thrash, his torso rising out of the water as he scrambles to try and get the net unhooked, but his arms are trapped against his body because of the net. As the boy moves, the fish tail does as well, banging and scratching against the rock.

It’s then that Jonny realizes that the fish tail, the actual _fish tail_ , is attached to the boy. The boy doesn’t have _legs_ , because he has a _tail_.

“Oh my god,” says Jonny.

From the beach, Juliette barks.

The boy continues to fight against the net. The more he struggles, the more tangled he gets, and the more tangled he gets, the more he injures himself. Scales are falling off the tail, and the broken fin is bleeding now, staining the water with blood, blood that will probably attract sharks.

“Stop it,” Jonny demands, a safe distance away. The boy doesn’t listen, just makes an inhuman noise before he tires and his head falls under water.

Jonny reaches out on impulse to drag the boy’s head out of the water, but that only causes the boy to panic, _again_. He manages to twist himself enough to turn his head, and then, because of his blind panic, slams his own face right into the rock.

He cries out in pain; Jonny immediately starts to coo. This is weird as fuck, but his heart is breaking. It’s obvious that the boy— _mermaid_ , his brain corrects, when he glances down at the tail—is scared, and is willing to do just about anything to get away.

The mermaid’s nose begins to bleed. He rests his cheek against the rock, staring at Jonny with spooked eyes.

“It’s okay,” coos Jonny, gentle. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The boy breathes hard. There are gills on the side of his neck. When the water washes over them, they flutter.

Jonny stares. When he lifts his eyes, the mermaid peers back at him.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he repeats.

The mermaid shifts, but doesn’t struggle. Jonny can see where his arms are bruised and cut, and wonders how long the mermaid’s been stuck to the rock. The mermaid’s so tangled up that he can barely move; it’s a miracle his tail hasn’t managed to get caught, too.

“I need to get my pocket knife,” he explains, even though he isn’t sure if the mermaid understands him. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

The mermaid thrashes uselessly when Jonny starts to leave, but Jonny ignores him to make his way back to the shore.

Juliette greets him excitedly. Jonny spends a moment petting and kissing her head, calling her a good girl, reassuring her that everything will be alright.

Juliette doesn’t want to leave the mermaid. It’s illegal to leave her unleashed and unattended, but Jonny lets her stay. Even the locals rarely ever visit this part of the beach. It’s beautiful, but the beach is littered with driftwood and rocks, and it’s not an ideal place to go and relax.

Jonny jogs back to the car. He grabs his pocketknife out of the glove department before he jogs back. Juliette is where he left her, head on her front paws as she stares at the rock. Jonny can see the mermaid’s tail poking out of the water, but he’s frighteningly still.

The mermaid’s eyes are closed when Jonny makes it back. They flutter open when he rests his hand on the rock.

“I’m going to cut you out,” he explains, flicking the knife out. The mermaid’s eyes get wide in fear, but Jonny makes a soft, reassuring noise before he pockets the knife.

He has to find a good place to start. He keeps his hands out for the mermaid to see as he steps closer. The mermaid shifts, but he doesn’t make any attempt to get away. His nose is still bleeding. He sniffles, but it does nothing to stop the blood.

“There’s a good boy,” murmurs Jonny, in the voice he reserves for Juliette when there are thunderstorms, or for Maddy when she encounters a butterfly. “Just stay calm for me.”

The mermaid’s eyes never leave Jonny’s hands. He flinches when Jonny touches an arm, but doesn’t move.

Jonny draws the knife out. He shows it to the mermaid, before he hooks his finger in a hole and makes a cut. The mermaid freezes, eyes squeezed shut like he expects for Jonny to cut him. When Jonny doesn’t, his eyes flutter open.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” says Jonny, gentle.

The mermaid looks at him, his eyes searching Jonny’s face. They’re a bright blue, and remind Jonny of the sky. The mermaid must see something he trusts, because he relaxes and stops flinching every time Jonny moves the knife to a new place to cut.

It takes awhile, but eventually Jonny manages to free an arm. The skin is smooth, baby soft. On the mermaid’s elbow is another fin, smaller, but the same blue-green as the fins on his tail. Jonny doesn’t dare touch it.

They work together, Jonny slowly freeing the mermaid of the trap, grabbing as much net as he can and throwing it on the rock so nothing else gets caught. It feels like an hour before the net simply falls away, and the mermaid flops over, right into Jonny’s arms.

Jonny almost drops the pocketknife in surprise. The mermaid sighs, tilting back in Jonny’s arms until his head submerges under water. He only goes far enough under for the water to lap over his face and clear away the blood.

The mermaid lifts his head, curling himself against Jonny’s chest. For a wild animal, he’s uncharacteristically trusting.

Jonny honestly doesn’t know what to do now that he’s freed the mermaid. He expected for the mermaid to swim away in panic and for this experience to be something he logged as some sort of weird hallucination, but now that he has the mermaid in his arms, the mermaid seems contented to stay there.

Jonny jostles him. “Uh, go, be free,” he says, trying to dump the mermaid in the water, but the mermaid clicks, annoyed, wrapping his long arms around Jonny’s neck. He refuses to be moved.

Jonny just stands there. The mermaid clicks. It sounds distinctly like a dolphin, but shorter, and not as sharp, quitter too.

“You should really go back to the ocean now,” says Jonny.

The mermaid gives Jonny a long look. He has two sets of eyelids. One set is completely human, but when the mermaid stares for too long, another, clear eyelid slides from under the human lid to cover his eye. The second lid looks like its made out of hard mucus. It’s fucking gross.

The mermaid eventually blinks and the gross eyelid disappears. He keeps one arm around Jonny’s neck when Jonny moves his hands away. The mermaid clings, using the water to buoy himself.

“Come on,” says Jonny. “Don’t you want to go home?”

The mermaid grunts. He pushes all his weight against Jonny until Jonny is forced to hold him again. When he’s secure in Jonny’s arms, the mermaid lifts the end of his tail out of the water. He can only hold it up for so long before he has to drop his tail back in the water, but it has its effect: his fin flops over pathetically, the scales along the abrasions of his tail falling off. He couldn’t go home, even if he wanted to.

The mermaid looks sadly at his tail. He gives a whole body sigh before he settles better in Jonny’s arms. His arms and torso are bruised and cut, the abrasions on his tail raw. He must be so tired.

“What about a nap?” suggest Jonny, deciding to bring the mermaid closer to shore.

The mermaid doesn’t protest. He tilts his head into Jonny’s neck, lips surprisingly soft. He lets Jonny pull him through the water until Jonny comes to a pack of rocks, water up to his thighs. The rocks are smooth here, beaten down by the constant flow of water.

The mermaid is hesitant to let go. He breathes hot and shallow against Jonny’s neck, lax in his arms. “A nap’s gonna make you feel better, buddy.”

The mermaid moves. He pulls himself across a rock, his long, muscled torso collapsed over it, his tail still in the water. He makes a pillow with his arms, looking very much like a sea lion about to sun itself. The mermaid sighs, his whole body seeming to collapse. The bruises and cuts on his arms seem worse now that he’s out of the water, and there’s a large, nasty bruise down his back that ends where the cartridge of his tail meets his torso.

Jonny wants to touch him, but he keeps his hands to himself. “I’ll be back to check on you,” he tells the mermaid but the mermaid doesn’t respond.

On shore Juliette greets him, sniffing at his hands and torso where his shirt is soaked through, inhaling the scent of mermaid. “He’ll be fine,” he reassures her when she whines.

From shore, the only thing visible of the mermaid is his broken fin jutting up from behind the rock. As long as no one is really looking, the mermaid is almost completely invisible.

Jonny watches the water for a few heartbeats, ready to return if the mermaid starts to show signs of distress again, but the mermaid is still, except for the gentle movement of his fins in the water.

 

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

 

Jonny has every intention of returning that evening to check on the mermaid, but his phone buzzes with the reminder that he has to be at the Sharps’ by four for a tea party with the girls, and after tea he’s always expected to stay for dinner.

Teatime is an amusing affair, as always. Jonny takes his place in his designated purple seat, his signature neon green tiara on his head, Sadie on his left, Maddy on his right.

Usually he's pretty ace at teatime. The girls are very particular about table manners and Jonny drinking all of his tea. _Usually_ he does exactly what’s expected of him, but his thoughts drag to the mermaid in the nursery, and he doesn’t drink all of his tea.

“Jonny,” says Maddy, disapproving. “You didn’t drink all your tea!”

“Jonny that bad,” adds Sadie.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, drinking the rest of his imaginary tea.

He’s better after that, pouring out a cup for the girls’ stuffed elephant Timothy and eating his biscuits like a proper gentleman.

By dinner the girls have forgiven him for his rudeness; he settles down between them at the table. Abby’s made his favorite casserole, and as she’s dishing it out Sharpy wanders in from work.

“Hi Toes,” he says, giving Jonny an identical wet kiss to the side of his head as he gives his girls. Jonny wipes the spit from his face with a frown as Sadie giggles.

By the time Jonny leaves the Sharps', it’s almost ten. Juliette needs to be let out, and it’s far too dark to head to the beach.

 

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Juliette refuses to be left behind the next morning.

Jonny pops the trunk of his Jeep and she jumps right in. He has to head to the library after the beach, and it’s a total inconvenience to bring her, but she lies right down on the blanket he always keeps there for her, peering up at him as if to say, “Are we going or not?”

Jonny ruffles her ears, sighing in defeat.

He doesn’t even bother to leash her when they get to the beach. Juliette just jumps right out, waiting for him to gather the first aid kit before trotting down to the the beach. She stops to sniff at a bit of seaweed before she leads the way to the nursery.

The water is calm. There’s no sign of the mermaid when they arrive.

“Come on,” Jonny tells Juliette when there’s no movement in the water for a long time. Juliette plops down in the sand, wagging her tail.

Jonny sits down next to her; there’s no arguing with Juliette when she gets like this. He peers out into the ocean, hand stroking Juliette’s back lazily, until finally his eyes catch on a blob of blond hair near the rock where he rescued the mermaid in the first place.

When he makes to stand, the mermaid’s head disappears back behind the rock. Jonny stops midway and then settles back down. It takes a moment, but the mermaid’s head reappears from behind the rock.

Every time Jonny moves the mermaid’s head disappears, only to appear again when Jonny stops.

They’re playing an adult version of peekaboo. As amusing as it is, they don’t have time for this. Jonny has to try and splint the mermaid’s tail _and_ drop Juliette off at home, all before noon.

He kicks off his sandals, wadding into the water. Today he at least thought ahead to wear his swim trunks. His favorite salmon shorts sit dry in the car to change in to before work.

Jonny pauses halfway to the rock. The mermaid pokes his head out. He looks pale, eyes wide, with dark, angry circles.

“Hi,” calls Jonny, gentle. “Remember me?”

The mermaid crouches down. He clicks softly to himself, gills fluttering.

“It’s okay,” says Jonny, but doesn’t take any steps closer. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”

The mermaid clings to the rock. The fin on his elbow is torn, and the bruises on his arms are an even nastier purple than the day before. He looks like he’s literally been through hell.

Jonny’s the furthest thing from a marine biologist, and he’s even farther from a doctor, but years spent camping with David and Dan have taught him how to splint a broken arm and how to sew up a particularly nasty cut. Anything will probably help the mermaid feel better, if the mermaid would just come to him.

He takes a cautious step forward. The mermaid doesn’t move. He watches every step Jonny takes, but doesn’t flee.

Jonny’s only a foot away when Juliette barks. The mermaid’s eyes get so wide that Jonny thinks they’ll pop out of his head, and then he bolts, or at least tries to.

It’s the fin that stops him. The mermaid turns too quickly to flee, and he bangs his tail right into the rock. The noise of pain he makes shoots straight to Jonny’s heart, but he can’t do anything, because the mermaid slips from his reach.

The mermaid fumbles in the water, tail useless. With his fin broken, the mermaid can’t swim properly in the up and down motion. Instead he uses his hands and arms to awkwardly doggy-paddle his way to another rock.

He clings to the new rock, lookinh at Jonny from under the flop of his curls, and then to the beach, where Juliette’s waded into the water. Juliette cautiously steps forward, still too chicken shit to really swim to them, but it still makes the mermaid nervous. He opens his mouth, baring his teeth, gills popping out from the side of the neck in an attempt to make himself look threatening. He’s too far away for Juliette to see, so it has no effect on her.

“She’s too far away, dumbass,” says Jonny.

The mermaid turns his threatening look on Jonny. It would be scary, if Jonny didn’t know that the mermaid was injured and unable to do anything to actually hurt him, and more importantly, if the mermaid didn’t look like a homeless puppy.

“Let me help you,” says Jonny, a bit fond already.

Jonny could probably catch him, even with the added difficulty of the water, if he really wanted to. The mermaid’s exhausted, that much is clear, from the way he breathes heavy and shakes, all of his weight resting against the rock. It probably took all the energy out of him to get from one rock to the next. All Jonny would have to do is wade over to the rock and snag him gently by the tail.

He decides to let the mermaid be. He was overly friendly yesterday, and Jonny’s sure once the creature realizes that he _needs_ Jonny’s help, that that friendliness will return. Jonny backs up slowly, returning to the beach.

“Hey,” he says to Juliette when she greets him with a happy yelp. “You’ve got to be quiet around him.”

Juliette pushes her butt against his leg, so Jonny gives her a good scratch before he grabs her leash, shuffling back into his sandals.

He looks behind him before he leaves. The mermaid is still clinging to his rock, eyes wide and confused.

 

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Jonny barely manages to drop Juliette off at home and change before he heads to the library.

Antti is already there, sitting at the front desk. He smiles happily at Jonny, offering him a cookie he baked himself because Antti is sweet like that.

Jonny takes a cookie, making his way to the fourth floor where the Special Collections offices are. He lets himself in and nods to Crow—who’s muttering obscenely to himself about pixel dimensions—before he heads to his own desk.

There’s a box of documents Jonny needs to go through, sort, and eventually upload, but the first thing he does when he settles at his desk is pull up Google.

There really is no hope going through the internet for answers about mermaids, but Jonny’s a historian. He can at least piece together information that’s consistent on every site and then make an educated guess about what’s fact and what’s fiction.

After an hour, Google begins to make Jonny dizzy. He closes out of Chrome and actually begins to do his job. The boxes are all dusty, and he spends more time stealing tissues from Crow’s desk than actually sorting and classifying the documents.

In the grocery store after work he buys Juliette her normal dog food, and a bunch of rawhides she doesn’t need, before he stocks up on fish fillets. If the mermaid is exhausted and hurt, his chances of being able to catch food are minimum. It’s probably a horrible idea to feed a wild animal—animal? human hybrid?—but there really is no choice. There’s no point in salvaging what’s left of the mermaid’s tail only to let him starve to death.

Juliette throws a complete fit the next morning with all the stops—puppy eyes, pathetic whining, and please don’t leave me behind barking—but Jonny leaves her at home. He loves Juliette an unhealthy amount, but the mermaid is already stressed enough without a dog barking at him from shore. Maybe when the mermaid doesn’t look on the verge of dying Jonny will bring Juliette back. But for now he has to leave her behind, as much as it upsets the both of them.

The mermaid is lying in the shallows when Jonny arrives. He startles when Jonny draws close, but it’s painfully obvious how tired he is. He doesn’t seem capable of doing much, other than hopping about like a seal on land to try and get away, tail up in the air to try and keep the fin from touching the ground, but he becomes tired, and his tail falls to the ground with an angry splash.

It’s pathetic and sad to watch.

“Hey,” says Jonny, quiet, calm, as he settles on a part of the beach a comfortable distance away. “Are you hungry?”

He opens a packet of fish. It smells and feels gross, but he figures mermaids don’t care if it’s cooked or not, not that they would know the difference. He throws the fillet into the water close to the mermaid.

The mermaid reaches out and snags the fish before the seagulls can get it. He sniffs at it with suspicion, but hunger wins out. He rips into the fillet with a set of human teeth. He doesn’t look emaciated, although he is a bit on the skinny side, but there’s no telling how long he was trapped in the net, or how long he’s been injured. The mermaid swallows his last bite, and then looks at Jonny.

He cocks his head to the side like a puppy. He clicks to himself before his eyes narrow with suspicion.

Jonny rolls his eyes. “They’re not _poisoned_.”

The mermaid clicks again.

Jonny doesn’t want to stress the mermaid out, so he throws another fillet. The mermaid snatches that one too, swallowing it down in the same fashion as the first.

Asking the mermaid to come even closer seems detrimental. It’s hard for the mermaid to move, and he probably either beached himself on accident, or did it on purpose to find a place to rest where he didn’t have to move. He’s too tired now to hold his tail up to prevent the fin from hitting the ground; dragging it through the sand sounds painful.

Jonny opens another packet of fish. This time he throws all three at the mermaid at once. When the mermaid starts to eat, Jonny creeps forward, shortening the distance between them slowly as the mermaid concentrates on eating. By the time the mermaid realizes that Jonny’s moved, it’s too late; Jonny’s on his knees in the shallows next to him.

The mermaid panics. He begins to hobble away, but Jonny places a hand firmly on the small of his back. The skin there is smooth and baby soft as Jonny presses down, beginning to coo. “It’s okay,” he says reassuringly. “You remember me, yeah? I cut you out of the net.”

The mermaid makes a panicked, distressed noise, baring his teeth, thrashing about, chomping his teeth as he struggles. His teeth make an angry snapping noise every time they meet. It’s loud enough to send seagulls flying.

“Shh, shh,” Jonny soothes, holding the mermaid down as gently as he can. “Shh, it’s okay.” His knees slip in the sand as the mermaid struggles, their bodies sinking lower and lower every time the waves comes in and drag the sand back out. They get so slow that the mermaid’s face is nearly buried in it. Jonny lets up his weight to let the mermaid breathe; the mermaid takes the opportunity to use all of his weight to throw Jonny, flipping over onto his back.

The mermaid screeches. It’s high-pitched, fucking _loud_. Jonny yells, covering his ears with his hands, but it does little to help. His ear drums ring, and the birds in the sky start screeching.

“ _Stop_!” he yells over the horrendous noise. The mermaid sounds like a mixture between an angry cat and a bat.

The mermaid screeches once more before he finally stops. Jonny lowers his hands. The mermaid’s gills are out, his blue eyes almost black, his lips curled back to expose his teeth. His chest heaves as he glares at Jonny.

“I’m trying to _help_ you,” breathes Jonny.

He stands, the mermaid shrinking down. Jonny retrieves the first aid kit from where he left it next to the discarded fish packets. “I need to splint your fin,” he explains as he settles in the sand. “If it doesn’t get splinted, then it won’t mend properly, and if it doesn’t mend properly, then you won’t be able to swim ever again.”

The mermaid stops baring his teeth. He squeezes his eyes shut for a long moment, before he blinks them back open. His eyes are back to their normal, sky blue, but his body is still shrunk in on itself.

“Please,” Jonny begs. “Let me help you.”

The mermaid’s eyes narrow into a glare. When Jonny makes to move, the mermaid bares his teeth again.

“Okay,” admits Jonny. “I shouldn’t have touched you without your permission.” The mermaid clicks agreeably. “But in my defense, you seemed pretty buddy-buddy the other day.” The mermaid snorts.

Jonny rolls his eyes with a shake of his head, popping the lid on the first aid kit. It’s a standard one: red, with the familiar white cross centered on the lid.

The mermaid is quiet. He looks down at his broken fin where its doubled over and useless, and then back at Jonny. Jonny begins to pull out the supplies to splint the fin: a long, flat wooden stick, and waterproof gauze. “Look, nothing here can hurt you.”

The mermaid licks his lips. He stares, first at Jonny’s face, and then at the supplies, eyes wide. Remarkably, he seems well aware of what Jonny is saying to him because he lets out a heavy sigh, nodding.

Jonny moves to the mermaid. Even though he flinches, he stays put. “Just remember that I’m here to help.” The mermaid snaps his teeth once.

“Okay,” says Jonny, baring his teeth back. The mermaid rumbles a few dolphin clicks before he stubbornly turns his head away. Jonny rolls his eyes.

“I have to make your fin straight,” he explains as he sets his hand on the fin. The mermaid’s head remains stubbornly turned away until Jonny starts to gently set the fin straight.

To the mermaid’s credit, he doesn’t try and run. He lets out these tiny, panicked, upset whines that cause Jonny’s heart to shatter, but the mermaid doesn’t try to flee. He digs his teeth into his lower lip, hard enough to make it bleed, hands dug deep into the sand. By the time the fin is laid straight, there are big, fat, tears in the mermaid’s eyes. Jonny splints the fin as fast as he can.

When he sets the tail back in the water, the mermaid twists over and almost smacks Jonny in the face with his tail in his haste to get away.

The mermaid manages to make it only a little further into the shallows before he collapses. His shoulders slump, his head falling underwater. He lies slumped over, completely still.

Jonny plants himself back in the sand.

The mermaid is tired, in pain—beyond the point of exhaustion. He probably wants Jonny to leave, but Jonny stays where he is, twenty feet away. The tide is high, but the water will start to recede, and he wants to stay to make sure that the mermaid doesn’t get trapped on the beach. He nestles back in the sand as comfortably as he can, pillowing his head on the beach towel he brought with him to dry off.

Eventually there’s a splash from the water. Jonny pops one eye open, cocking his head.

The mermaid has rolled himself onto his back, tail in the air and bent so that his fins at the end of his tail are in reaching distance. The water has receded enough that the mermaid’s head is no longer under water as he reaches up, tentatively touching his splinted fin. There’s a wince of pain, but the mermaid glides his long, skinny fingers across the splint. His head cocks in curiosity, making a low series of buzzing clicks as he explores.

The mermaid eventually grows bored with his exploration, setting his tail back in the water. Jonny watches as he flips himself cautiously onto his stomach. The first aid kit lies in the sand nearby; the mermaid drags himself closer to it, until only his tail is in the water.

Seemingly unaware that Jonny is watching, the mermaid runs his hands over the kit, tracing the shape of the cross with a finger as he clicks to himself. It doesn’t take long for him to figure out how to open the box. Its contents spill out into the sand, and although Jonny should feel some sort of irritation, he’s too fascinated by the mermaid’s curiosity to feel any annoyance.

He watches as the mermaid picks up the pair of scissors that came with the kit. They glisten in the sunlight as he examines them, fingers slipping into the holes. The mermaid’s clicks get louder in excitement as he rolls gently onto his back to hold the scissors up against the light.

Jonny turns slowly and cautiously onto his side, hiding his smile in the crook of his elbow. The mermaid clicks happily as he draws the scissors apart, and then back together. He’s like a small child, and it’s fun and humorous to watch, until the mermaid brings the scissors to his mouth.

“No, no, nope,” says Jonny without thinking. The mermaid freezes, pointed end of the scissors against his lips.

“You can’t put those in your mouth,” Jonny explains. The mermaid remains unmoving. His eyes flick to Jonny. His eyes are wide, but not as frightened as they could be. His body is tense, but at least it’s not the uncontrollable tremors of terror Jonny was expecting.

“Those don’t go in your mouth,” repeats Jonny. “You’ll cut yourself.”

The mermaid clicks. His gills flutter, and then he draws the scissors from his lips. He doesn’t put them in the kit, just holds the handles in his fist as he slowly turns himself over onto his stomach. His eyes don’t leave Jonny, not even when he extends his hand out to drop the scissors in the sand. They’re not lying close enough for Jonny to just reach out and pick up. He has to sit up and slowly make his way over. The mermaid doesn’t move, just stays completely still as Jonny draws closer.

Jonny picks up the scissors carefully. The mermaid continues to watch.

Jonny fishes a Band-Aid out of the first aid kit. He doesn’t bother to unwrap it, just cuts it in half. “See,” he says. “Cut. You don’t want that to happen to your mouth.”

The mermaid clicks, reaching for half of the Band-Aid. It doesn’t take long for him to peel off the wrapper and the paper on the sticky end. His curiosity seems to be overriding any fear he has because he doesn’t seem as bothered by Jonny’s presence as he could be. Instead of panicking and looking ready to flee, the mermaid clicks cheerily and brings the Band-Aid to his mouth.

“No buddy,” laughs Jonny as the Band-Aid gets stuck to the mermaid’s bottom lip. “It goes on cuts.”

The mermaid gives Jonny a puzzled look. Jonny plucks a Band-Aid out of the kit. He unwraps it gently, and then cautiously places the Band-Aid on the mermaid’s tail where a patch of scales is missing.

The mermaid clicks; he doesn’t sound scared, just curious. He reaches down, touching the Band-Aid gingerly. When he realizes that it’s not doing him any harm, he sits up, reaching for a Band-Aid. He places it on a cut on his arm, and then gives Jonny a curious look, like he’s unsure of what to make of the Band-Aids, and more importantly, of Jonny.

Jonny smiles gently. The mermaid blinks shyly with a long sweep of his eyelashes. He clicks almost sweetly before he gets shy and flees, scouting down into the water. He doesn’t get very far, just deeper into the water to examine the Band-Aid on his arm.

Jonny puts the spilled contents of the first aid kit back into the box before he reclines on the beach.

The mermaid is no longer examining his Band-Aid, but instead just sits in the water, back turned to Jonny. The sun gleams off of his golden curls, making the healthy scales on his tail glisten.

He’s beautiful, Jonny realizes, in ways that might not just be related to the fact that he’s a mythological creature.

“I have to go to work,” says Jonny abruptly, after he’s become aware that he just called a _fish_ beautiful. “I’ll come visit afterward, okay?”

The mermaid isn’t paying him any attention, but Jonny still feels the need to let the mermaid know, the same way he does for Juliette when he goes anywhere.

The mermaid turns to look at him. Jonny can’t see his mouth, but he thinks the mermaid is frowning.

 

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

“You smell like beach,” says Antii when Jonny snags a brownie from the plate nestled on the checkout desk. Next to him, Teuvo nods.

“I took Juliette to the beach this morning,” lies Jonny, immediately feeling guilty about it. He takes a bite out of his brownie to distract himself.

“Oh,” says Antii, smiling. “Did Juliette enjoy her walk?”

“Yeah,” Jonny lies again. He snags another brownie, heading for the stairwell before Antti can ask him any more questions. He stops on the third floor to wash his hands in the employee bathroom before heading to the fourth floor.

Crow says roughly the same thing Antti did, just in French. “You smell like shit.”

“Thanks asshole,” says Jonny.

He spends much of his workday doing the same as the day before: doing his job absentmindedly while researching mermaids like a lunatic. There isn’t much more information to find other than the websites Jonny found the day before, and a few websites denying the very existence of mermaids. Instead he turns to Discovery and Animal Planet to learn as much as he can about saltwater fish.

There isn’t much to learn that seems valuable to taking care of a mermaid either, other than the obvious suggestion of never removing a saltwater fish from saltwater, which Jonny was never planning to do, _ever_.

He finishes up his work eventually, after hours of being distracted and not actually really getting anything done. It’s nearly dusk as he makes his way to his car, and it’ll be dark by the time he gets home to let Juliette out. Venturing to the beach at night seems counterproductive to his own health, so he decides to wait until morning to check on his charge.

Juliette’s happy to see him when he gets home, and thankfully hasn’t taken her disappointment in being left behind out on the sofa. He takes her for their usual dinnertime walk before feeding her and settling down in front of the TV with his own dinner.

It’s depressingly early when Jonny climbs into bed, Juliette hot on his heels.

He doesn’t have time the next morning to visit the mermaid, and has to wait until after work to stop by. He has more fish with him, and a wedge of lettuce, just to give the mermaid some variety.

High tide is back, and the light is leaving, but the mermaid comes willingly close to shore. He drags himself up into the surf, using his arms and bouncing about like a seal, careful not to let his fin drag or hit the ground. He must be able to smell the fish, even through the plastic wrap and plastic bags, because he peers at the bags, clicking loudly before Jonny can even reach the surf.

The mermaid refuses to come right up to Jonny, guarded, but he doesn’t seem as frightened as he could be. They’ve forged some sort of trust between them. The mermaid seems to understand that although the splinting the day before was traumatic and painful, Jonny isn’t going to outright hurt him.

“Hey buddy,” says Jonny cheerily as he nestles in the sand. “You hungry?”

The mermaid lowers himself into the sand. Jonny throws a fish to him, watching as the mermaid eats before he throws another.

“How’s your fin? Does it hurt?”

The mermaid chews thoughtfully before he clicks at Jonny. He drags himself a little further up. Not close enough for Jonny to touch, but close enough that it makes it easier for Jonny to throw him dinner.

When the fish is gone, Jonny breaks off a piece of lettuce. The mermaid sniffs at it before tentatively putting the lettuce in his mouth. He immediately makes a face, spitting it back out.

“Eat your vegetables,” demands Jonny.

The mermaid lifts an eyebrow in an almost mocking manner, but Jonny reckons it’s a play of his face, and not the mermaid actually giving him attitude back. The mermaid grabs the lettuce piece like asked, and although he doesn’t seem to like the taste, he does like the noise the lettuce makes as he snaps it in half. The mermaid clicks to himself, relaxing into the sand. For the second time in two days, he looks like he might actually be used to Jonny’s presence.

The mermaid looks at Jonny out of the corner of his eye from time to time, always aware that Jonny is there, but he’s not as terrified as the first morning, and he doesn’t crouch down in fear when Jonny shifts around to get more comfortable. He’s still cautious, that much is evident, but the mermaid doesn’t seem ready to flee at the drop of a hat.

It’s quite nice to sit there in the quiet presence of the mermaid, but it soon turns dark, and Juliette needs to be let out before she has an accident in the house. Jonny decides to leave the wedge of lettuce on the beach with the mermaid to at least give the creature something to play with while his mobility is limited.

“Tomorrow’s my day off,” Jonny explains.

The mermaid ignores him to put a piece of leafy lettuce in his mouth. He doesn’t spit it out, but he doesn’t look too pleased by the taste either.

“Take it easy man,” says Jonny before he leaves.

 

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

In the morning, Jonny stops by the grocery store again to stock up on fish, drops them off at home, and then grabs Juliette. He knows the mermaid is terrified of the dog, but he hopes a few days apart, and the thin line of trust between he and the mermaid, will forge some sort of bond between the two.

He lets Juliette lead the way to the nursery. The wedge of lettuce is gone, but the mermaid takes one look at Juliette and stays firmly behind his favorite rock.

“She’s not going to hurt you,” Jonny yells to him, but the mermaid stays firm, even when Jonny opens a package of fish. Juliette tries to eat the fish, but a firm no has her flopping in the sand in defeat.

Hunger wins out. The mermaid moves from his rock to the smooth ones and waits. He isn’t swimming perfectly, far from it, but he doesn’t seem as drained as the days previous. His skin looks healthier too, and the bags under his eyes aren’t so puffy. His arms are still covered in nasty bruises, but the torn fin on his elbow looks neither worse nor better. Jonny really wants to take a look at it, but he’s sure the mermaid is too smart to let him sneak up on him again. The only way Jonny’s going to get close enough to look at the elbow fin is if he gains the mermaid’s trust completely.

Jonny has no intention of wading into the water to feed the mermaid, even though he has his trunks on. If he can convince—not _train_ —the mermaid to come to shore when he needs him, his recovery will go a lot easier for the both of them.

“It’s okay,” he says when the mermaid still refuses to budge five minutes later. “I promise she won’t bite.”

It takes another five minutes for the mermaid to break. He doesn’t come as close as he did last night, but he’s close enough for Jonny’s liking.

“No, stay,” Jonny commands when Juliette sits up. He knows she won’t hurt the mermaid, but she’s curious, and her curiosity might scare him off.

“Stay,” he commands again, stepping into the water to give the mermaid his breakfast.

The mermaid eats much slower than last night, but his eyes never leave Juliette.

“That’s Juliette,” Jonny explains. “She’s a dog.”

The mermaid peers at her from around Jonny. Juliette wags her tail back, but stays like a good girl.

“And I’m Jonny,” Jonny tacks on awkwardly. The mermaid looks up at him. “Jonny,” he repeats, pointing to himself. “Juliette,” he says, pointing to the dog.

The mermaid looks at him expectantly, as though he’s waiting for Jonny to tell him _his_ name. Jonny had no intention of actually _naming_ the mermaid, but the mermaid is looking at him expectantly, _waiting_ , so he cracks.

“Peekaboo,” he says, letting the nickname roll off his tongue with surprising ease.

It’s childish and pet like, Jonny relying on their previous game of adult peekaboo to come up with the name, but it’s better than naming the mermaid something like _Charles_ , or _Andrew_. At least this way the name will remain childish, and it won’t feel like such a heavy responsibility on Jonny’s shoulders to give the mermaid an actual, legitimate human name.

Peekaboo looks neither pleased nor displeased by the new name. His eyes remain locked on Juliette, hesitant but obviously inquisitive. Juliette’s found a stick to chew on and isn’t paying the mermaid any attention.

Peekaboo clicks to himself before he nestles in the sand, and his attention turns to the plastic bags carrying his breakfast. He sways back and forth, his clicks growing louder as Jonny sets the bags in the sand and draws out more fish.

Jonny doesn’t exactly wade into the water, but he does go deep enough that the water hits his ankles. He plops down, a good ten feet away from the mermaid, opening the fish package.

“Come on buddy,” he says when Peekaboo looks at him with suspicion. He holds the fillet out in the palm of his hand instead of throwing it like normal.

Peekaboo crouches down in the water until his nose disappears below the surface. He blows bubbles, letting the water sway him gently.

“I know you’re hungry,” Jonny tempts. He tries to make himself look as non-threatening as possible. Peekaboo uses his hands to pull himself just a bit closer.

Jonny waits patiently. He smiles when Peekaboo lifts his face, closing the distance between them.

Peekaboo snatches the fish out of Jonny’s hand, their fingers brushing together momentarily, before he retreats. “Good job buddy,” says Jonny, taking out other another fillet.

Peekaboo isn’t as hesitant to take this one, but he retreats again, this time not as far away. He’s close enough that Jonny could reach out and touch him if he really wanted to, but he doesn’t, and he doesn’t complain when the fish runs out and Peekaboo backs up into the water out of his reach.

The mermaid isn’t close enough to touch anymore, but the distance between them isn’t all that big. Peekaboo is back to concentrating on Juliette, who’s given up chewing on her stick to wade into the water. She won’t go any further, but her fear doesn’t stop her from getting up and trotting over.

Peekaboo immediately bolts. He doesn’t make it very far; just far enough away that Juliette can’t reach him. Juliette headbutts her way into Jonny’s arms, demanding his love and attention, and he gives it to her. He kisses her head, stroking her back gently, while Peekaboo watches from the safety of the water.

There’s no fear in Peekaboo’s eyes, just honest curiosity. He cocks his head back and forth, like a puppy, as his curls flop into his eyes. “See,” Jonny says to him. “No biting. She just wants to be your friend.”

Peekaboo inches forward. Juliette whines. The noise causes Peekaboo to pause, but he looks determined to work through his fear. He creeps closer, until Juliette is in reaching distance. Jonny makes her sit and pets her to keep her calm. He smiles encouragingly at Peekaboo, who draws close enough to swiftly touch Juliette’s front paw with one long finger before he scrams.

Peekaboo backtracks as quickly as he can, doggy paddling his way to a rock; it’s the fastest Jonny’s seen him move in two days. He pokes his head from behind the rock to look at them, and when he realizes that Juliette hasn’t taken chase, he smiles. It’s small, and private, with a set of sweet, tiny dimples.

 

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

From then on, Peekaboo becomes more adventurous and confident.

He’s still shy and hesitant with Jonny. He only gets close enough to reach out and take a fish straight from his hand, but the mermaid isn’t crouching in fear. He even seems happy to see Jonny, if the way he immediately beaches himself when Jonny arrives, and doesn’t immediately flee after being fed, is anything to go by.

Peekaboo seems happier to see Juliette than he is to see Jonny most days. Any loud noise from her has him staying away, but Juliette soon learns that if she’s patient and quiet, Peekaboo will come to her.

He likes to come up in the surf and touch her gently. For a week straight they play a game where Peekaboo touches her paw and then runs away as fast as he can to the safety of a rock. It’s an unfair game because Juliette’s dislike of the water keeps her from going any deeper than her knees, but once Peekaboo realizes that she won’t chase him to the rock, they start to play the game in the shallows.

Peekaboo touches her paw and moves away as quickly as he can, always cautious of his fin, but no longer seemingly too affected by his bruised arms or plagued by exhaustion, and Juliette trots after him excitedly.

Peekaboo’s smiles come more freely over the course of the week. He seems to understand that Jonny is as harmless as the seagulls that try to steal his fish. He spends most of his time in Jonny’s presence clicking loudly but happily, and even at times giving Jonny one of his small, private smiles.

He still won’t let Jonny close enough to really touch him by the end of the week, which makes Jonny secretly jealous of Juliette, but he understands that they probably started off on the wrong foot. He wouldn’t want a dude who tricked him with food and then caused him—completely and totally necessary—pain anywhere near him either. They’ve got to work on their trust.

Their food exchange is a start, but Peekaboo only lets Jonny touch him enough to hand him the food before he retreats. Jonny has to come up with a way to convince Peekaboo that his touch isn’t _bad_.

In the meantime he does his best to keep Peekaboo a secret. It’s not like anyone ever really comes to this part of the beach, but Jonny’s always careful to check if anyone is around before he heads to the nursery. He always clears his Internet search history off of his work computer, and even off his laptop at home. He never gets any large amount of fish from the same grocery store twice in a row.

It’s paranoia that makes Jonny do all of the weird things that he does. He’s accidentally stumbled upon this secret and must fiercely protect it, because there are people out there who don’t know, but they do _believe_ , and one little murmur of a possible mermaid sighting will send them flocking to the nursery.

Jonny isn’t naïve enough to think that people will just want to verify that what they’ve always believed in is real. He knows, if somehow the secret gets out, that people will try to hurt Peekaboo. They’ll capture him, put him in an aquarium, or worse: keep him locked away somewhere to torture and hurt him, just to figure out _why_.

Jonny wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anything ever happened to Peekaboo. He keeps the secret safely locked away, until two weeks in he’s so distracted and dedicated to Peekaboo’s care, that he forgets all about his weekly tea party with the girls.

“Jonny,” says Abby when he finally answers his phone. He’s been trying to keep Peekaboo from eating the plastic wrapper that covers every packet of fish, but Peekaboo insists on putting it in his mouth, and he keeps drifting in the water out of Jonny’s reach. Even injured and malnourished, he moves through the water with ease.

“Abby,” says Jonny as he finally manages to get the wrapper out of Peekaboo’s mouth. Peekaboo clicks angrily.

“Jonny,” Abby repeats. “It’s Wednesday.”

“Um,” says Jonny.

Abby makes a frustrated noise. “It’s _Wednesday_ , and the girls are waiting to start their tea party.”

“Shit,” Jonny blurts, which startles Peekaboo. “Shit, fuck. Abby, I’ll be right there.”

“You better be,” Abby says, hanging up.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Jonny tells Peekaboo as the mermaid watches him leave in confusion.

Jonny doesn’t even have time to drop Juliette off at home. “Sorry,” he apologizes as he races into the Sharp home, Juliette hot on his heels.

Abby shakes her head. “It’s not me you have to apologize to.”

The girls are sitting around the table in their playroom. Timothy already has his cup of tea. Maddy puts her hands on her hips angrily when she sees him. “You’re late Jonny!”

“I know,” says Jonny. “I’m sorry.”

Sadie pouts at him. “Timothy’s tea cold, Jonny.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jonny apologizes again, taking his seat at the table. Juliette joins them. The girls giggle as they set up a place for her, pouring her a cup of tea. Jonny has to lift the cup to her snout for her to drink, but Juliette’s presence pushes him back into the girls’ good graces.

After Abby puts them down for bed, Jonny makes to leave, but Sharpy and Abby bribe him with a bottle of Molson into staying longer.

“It’s not like you to be late for tea time,” Abby scolds gently as she puts her feet in Sharpy’s lap. “Are you going to tell us what’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on,” Jonny lies into his beer. As much as he trusts the Sharps, he can’t bring himself to tell them about Peekaboo, not that they would believe him, anyway. Peekaboo is something that needs to be seen. Even though Jonny knows in his heart that the Sharps would never hurt the mermaid, he just can’t bring himself to say I need to show you something. Instead he says, “Seriously, there’s nothing going on.”

“You almost made my girls cry today To-ez,” Sharpy drawls, poking Jonny’s shoulder. “You panic when they cry.”

Jonny frowns. “I wasn’t _that_ late.”

“You haven’t forgotten about tea time since Maddy was old enough to invite you,” adds Abby.

He knows Abby and Sharpy mean well, but he isn’t a child who has to answer to his parents. “Nothing is going on.”

“I bet it’s a girl,” Sharpy teases.

Jonny flushes, which is his first mistake. “Oh,” says Sharpy, putting his chin in his hand to grin at Jonny. “What’s her name?”

“It’s not a girl,” Jonny mumbles.

“Maybe it’s a boy,” Abby comments.

Jonny chokes on a sip of beer, which just makes Sharpy’s eyes light up in excitement. “Is that what it is, To-ez? You’ve gotten yourself a new boyfriend and decided to leave my girls in the dust?”

Jonny doesn’t want to tell them about Peekaboo, so instead he plays with the label on his bottle, deciding that a pretend boyfriend is better than the truth. “We’re not dating. We’re just hanging out.”

Abby smiles encouragingly. “Introduce us to him some time, Jonny. But don’t you dare ever forget about tea time again.”

“I won’t,” promises Jonny.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Abby and Sharpy tease him from time to time about his new boyfriend, but they don’t ask too many questions, and Jonny makes sure to show up early for every tea time.

At the beginning of the third week, Peekaboo sticks around long enough after taking his fish that Jonny just says _fuck it_ and touches him.

Peekaboo’s entire body freezes. Jonny’s hand is on the mermaid’s. He keeps his fingers there, light as a feather. When Peekaboo doesn’t flee, Jonny moves his fingers slowly down Peekaboo’s arm and then back up again.

Peekaboo gazes at Jonny. He has his fish in both hands, against his lips, posed to take a bite. His second lid comes down to cover his eyes, but Jonny still doesn’t move his hand. Peekaboo could flee at any moment, spurred only by the memories of Jonny’s touch—difficult, painful memories, but he stays. Jonny smiles, and Peekaboo relaxes. He resumes his chewing as Jonny gently strokes his shoulder.

When the fish is gone Jonny expects for Peekaboo to move away, but he stays in place, even as Jonny’s fingers slip from his shoulder to the back of his neck. Peekaboo clicks curiously. To Jonny’s surprise, he moves closer, until his arm rests against Jonny’s side. This is as close as they’ve ever been without Peekaboo being in some sort of dire, life-threatening situation.

Peekaboo sways with the water; his skin amazingly soft where it rubs against the exposed skin of Jonny’s thigh. There are still bruises up and down his arms, but they’re lighter now, almost completely gone. He looks so much healthier than the first time they met, and if it weren’t for the splint on his tail fin, it would be hard to believe that Peekaboo was ever once hurt and unhealthy. He’s put on a bit of weight too—completely spoiled with food because Jonny didn’t know what the appropriate amount to feed a mermaid was. He found out the hard way that Peekaboo eats until he gets sick, not until he’s no longer hungry.

Jonny rubs his thumb gently across the back of Peekaboo’s neck while Peekaboo’s curls tickle his fingers. He suspects that without the help of water, the curls would be a hot mess. They tuff out at the back of the mermaid’s neck, almost like a natural mullet, and when he’s been lazing in the sun, and his hair dries, he looks ridiculous, like a poodle. A haircut would do his curls some good, but Jonny’s not even going to attempt it.

Peekaboo blows bubbles, turning his head against Jonny’s thigh, nosing against his swim trunks as his gills flutter. He talks to himself in a series of clicks and low whines that don’t sound frightened or irritated, but happy. His eyes flutter shut as Jonny’s fingers slip into the hair at the back of his skull, rubbing gently. It takes Jonny by surprise when he feels Peekaboo’s chest rumble against his leg, because he’s _purring_.

 _Mermaids are part cat_ , thinks Jonny incredulously, fingers paused in the mermaid’s hair.

Peekaboo’s eyes snap open. He grumbles low in his throat, nosing closer in annoyance.

“Okay, Jesus,” says Jonny when Peekaboo glares and actually snaps his teeth at him. “You didn’t even want me to touch you before you found out what a head rub was.”

Peekaboo ignores him to purr contentedly as Jonny’s fingers move up to the back of his head. Jonny rubs his fingers in gentle circles, repeatedly opening and closing his hand until Peekaboo gets uncomfortable. He sits up.

Jonny thinks that the mermaid’s had enough, but Peekaboo just flops over, head right in Jonny’s lap. His nose presses against Jonny’s belly button, and he sighs deeply before he yawns, looking up at Jonny expectantly.

Jonny freezes. Peekaboo is showing an outstanding amount of trust in him, and he isn’t sure what to do with that trust, other than to stare down at the mermaid who glares back up at him. He clicks grumpily, so Jonny digs his fingers back into the mermaid’s hair, hyper-aware that he has a mermaid, who was previously so frightened of him that he shook in fear, purring happily in his lap.

All it took to gain the mermaid’s trust was a _just fuck it_ attitude and a head massage, which is completely ridiculous in Jonny’s opinion, but trust is trust no matter how he got it, and if Peekaboo trusts him enough to lie his head in Jonny’s lap and fall asleep—because that’s _exactly_ what Peekaboo is doing—then Jonny’s not going to complain, although his back aches from lack of support, and he can already feel the sunburn on his shoulders.

He lets Peekaboo nap until his back can’t take it anymore. “Hey, _hey_ ,” he says gently, poking at Peekaboo’s shoulder. Peekaboo whines miserably, but when Jonny wiggles his legs to dislodge him, the mermaid flops over into the water, instantly submerging half of his face. He blows a bubble through his nose before whatever internal functions in his brain switch over to breathing through his gills.

They flutter gently as he pouts at Jonny. Jonny shakes his head, ruffling Peekaboo’s curls gently before he stands and wrings out his trunks. Jonny’s skin feels wrinkly and gross from salt, and there’s definitely sunburn across his shoulders, if the way they ache when he rolls them is anything to go by, but his annoyance at his gross skin and sunburn dull when Peekaboo gently flips onto his back and grins up at him, all dimples and bright blue eyes, a couple of curls flopping uselessly against his forehead.

Jonny’s breath catches uselessly in his throat. Peekaboo’s smile is blindingly bright, despite how relaxed and sleepy he looks. He clicks softly and yawns. Jonny has to tear his eyes away to stop himself from doing something stupid, like getting on his knees and kissing a _fish_.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, buddy,” he says, and does something much more appropriate and less stupid: he pushes Peekaboo’s curls out of his face. “Be good. Don’t die while I’m gone.”

Peekaboo clicks some sort of reply.

 

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Jonny has to reset Peekaboo’s splint.

The waterproof bandage can only stay waterproof for so long, and as Peekaboo grows stronger and surer of his movements, there’s bound to be accidents, like a game of tag with Juliette that goes a bit wary and causes Peekaboo to slam his healing fin right into his favorite sunning rock.

“So, no more tag,” says Jonny as Peekaboo wipes at a teary eye with the back of his hand. Jonny gave him some aspirin to help with the pain, although he isn’t sure if pain medication is even good for a mermaid. Peekaboo sniffles.

The experience is a whole let less traumatic on both their parts this time around. Peekaboo at least knows what to expect. He lies completely still as Jonny unwraps the bandage.

Jonny isn’t an expert, but the fin seems to be getting better. It still looks raw, and Peekaboo gives a whole body flinch as he re-splints it, but the mermaid is healing, and that’s all that matters.

“Not so bad, eh?” says Jonny. Peekaboo just shimmies his tail out of his grasp, slipping back into the water in an obvious mood. Jonny leaves a few fish fillets buried in the sand for the mermaid when Peekaboo refuses to come out of the water. He watches Peekaboo sulk against a rock before he gathers Juliette and leaves.

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

One morning, Jonny arrives at the nursery in the early light of dawn, right before work. Peekaboo takes one look at the bag of baby carrots in his hand and says, “Puh.”

Jonny drops the bag.

“Puh,” Peekaboo says, unimpressed.

“You’re talking,” says Jonny dumbly.

“Puh,” Peekaboo replies, still unimpressed, eyes on the carrots. He loves carrots, but only if they’re uncooked. If Jonny brings him cooked carrots in a Tupperware container, Peekaboo just feeds them to Juliette, or worse, to the seagulls that always seem to hang about.

“You can _talk_ ,” says Jonny, incredulous.

Peekaboo just carefully beaches himself, dragging himself far enough up shore to grab the carrots. He’s completely out of the water, and is going to need Jonny’s help to get safely back in, but that doesn’t seem to matter, because he has _carrots_.

“When did you learn to _talk_?”

Peekaboo crunches on a carrot. “Puh.”

 _Puh_ seems to be the only word Peekaboo knows, even if it’s not actually a word. It’s a series of sounds that are more than clicks and whines, which were the only noises Jonny thought Peekaboo capable of making.

When Peekaboo’s demolished all of the carrots—which Jonny doesn’t ever let him do, but he’s _distracted_ —he flaps his arms about and cries _puh_ until Jonny gently pulls him back into the water.

Jonny doesn’t have time to sit on the beach and contemplate this new development in Peekaboo’s verbal behavior. He gives Peekaboo a quick little head massage before he leaves the mermaid on the beach.

He has a shit ton of work to do when he arrives at the library, but he ignores it to do a quick Google search of: _can mermaids talk?_ Of course Google yields no actual useful results, and he’s forced to actually do work, although the sound of Peekaboo saying _puh_ remains in his head throughout the day.

Usually he only visits Peekaboo once a day now that Peekaboo’s become stronger and he's caught him with a dead fish in his hand, but today Jonny goes straight home after work, changes into his trunks, and heads straight back to the nursery.

“Okay Peeks,” he says, feeling no shame in shortening the already ridiculous nickname. “Talk.”

Peekaboo looks at Jonny like he’s an idiot, and then tugs grumpily at the bottom of his trunks until Jonny sits in the water. Jonny knows immediately what’s coming, so he braces himself against Juliette, whose rump is in the water and her head is dry on her paws. Jonny doesn’t even pretend to be surprised when Peekaboo flops over his legs, laying his head in his lap. Jonny’s fingers immediately go to Peekaboo's skull, sinking into the soft mop of curls to begin his massage. He’s spoiling the mermaid rotten, which probably won’t end well for either of them, but Peekaboo can be persistent when he really wants something, and it’s not like it’s really a hassle to massage the mermaid’s head.

Peekaboo’s purrs begin immediately. He doesn’t even seem to have a sweet spot; he just likes to have his head rubbed. Like an oversized dog, his tail sways back and forth happily as Jonny massages his scalp.

“You’re a nuisance,” says Jonny, fond.

“Puh,” Peekaboo sighs dreamily.

“Seriously,” says Jonny, stopping the massage to pet Peekaboo’s hair instead. “When did you learn to talk?”

Peekaboo gives no answer. He probably has no explanation, and even if he did, Jonny doubts that the mermaid would be able to voice how he taught himself to speak, other than _puh_ repeated over and over again.

(There’s a chance, however, that Peekaboo _didn’t_ teach himself how to talk—that Peekaboo had the ability to form words from the very start, but only decided _now_ to try and communicate.)

Peekaboo purrs happily, curling his hand up next to his face, looking the perfect image of an angel as his eyes flutter shut. Jonny rubs his thumb back and forth across Peekaboo’s forehead gently, settling down more gently against Juliette. Juliette sighs deeply, shifting her weight, settling down for a nap.

Jonny is wide-awake, but with both his dog and the mermaid unwilling to move, he has no choice but to prepare for a nap. His skin will wrinkle again, but at least this time he remembered to put on suntan lotion.

He jolts awake an hour later when Juliette has had enough and slips out from under him, sending his head sprawling backwards into the water. The sand is at least soft when his head lands in it, despite how he’s never going to get the dirt out of his hair.

Peekaboo sits up slowly, rubbing at his eyes. His hair is ridiculous, and when he deducts that nothing is wrong, he lies back down, head on Jonny’s stomach, an arm thrown over Jonny’s hips.

Jonny’s legs have definitely pruned. He’s hungry, he isn’t sure where Juliette wandered off to, and his head is going to sink into the sand if he lies there for any longer, but Peekaboo is warm and solid on his chest; he can’t bring himself to move. He puts one hand behind his head, and the other tentatively on Peekaboo’s hip, right where scales meet skin.

Peekaboo’s skin is soft everywhere Jonny touches, even at the edge of the hard cartilage that wraps around Peekaboo’s waist to separate his tail from his torso. It’s remarkable, Jonny thinks, as he strokes his thumb back and forth, that with all that salt in the sea, Peekaboo’s skin is still so forgiving.

Peekaboo sighs softly. He’s breathing with his lungs, the air from his nose tickling Jonny’s abs. It’s peaceful like this, Jonny thinks, and lets himself sleep.

He wakes again, not that much later, to something ghosting across his face. He thinks it’s Juliette nosing at him in annoyance, but when Jonny blinks awake, the weight of Peekaboo is gone from his chest. Peekaboo is lying in the sand next to him, leaning over him as he brushes hair out of Jonny’s face. There’s a smile on his lips, even when Jonny grunts and half-heartedly tells him to go away.

“Puh,” Peekaboo snorts, frowning when Jonny sits up. It’s way past dusk now, and Jonny really needs to get out of the water and shower. He looks around for Juliette and finds her in the sand nearby, wagging her tail.

“I have to go bud,” he says, even though Peekaboo is looking at him sadly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” he ruffles Peekaboo’s hair.

Peekaboo watches him leave, a sad, hurt look in his eyes.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

The end of the third week brings new developments in Peekaboo’s speech and behavior.

Jonny wasn’t under any impression that Peekaboo was stupid. He’s intelligent, and his simplistic behaviors towards the toys and objects Jonny brings to entertain him while he’s gone are understandable. The human world must be very different and strange from the world Peekaboo knows, and his childlike fascination is amusing but logical—he explores objects with his hands and ears and mouth and eyes, trying to make sense of them because he’s never seen them before, or if he has, he’s never been able to interact with the objects. Peekaboo isn’t stupid, he’s just curious. His curiosity is probably what got him caught in the net in the first place.

He only has to watch Jonny once or twice before he figures out how to open his breakfast by himself, or how to apply a bandage to a scratch. He understands their routine, and knows what days to expect Jonny twice a day, or just once. He hates having his fin splinted or even touched, but Peekaboo seems to understand that it needs to be done, and he sometimes holds the supplies for Jonny.

The most significant thing Peekaboo learns to do is communicate verbally. For two days all Peekaboo manages to say is _puh_ , making various inhuman noises. He applies _puh_ to everything, from his food, to Juliette, and even when he’s chattering to himself or to Jonny, intermingling the word with his normal clicks and whines. But eventually _puh_ transforms itself into other words, like _jep_ and _meh_ , and other numerous made-up words, and these words slowly go from seemingly meaningless, to actually having meaning.

 _Puh_ still remains outwardly meaningless, but Peekaboo only says _fih_ when he wants fish or _ju_ when he sees Juliette, and even _jah_ , which Jonny is pretty sure is Peekaboo’s attempt to say his name. Peekaboo even manages _nah_ , which is pretty much a form of no. Every word Peekaboo comes up with always sounds like it’s on the verge of actually being an English word, but something always stops the mermaid short. Jonny sits on the beach on his days off when he has time, repeating words over and over again in hopes that Peekaboo will catch on, but Peekaboo’s mental block always seems to stop him.

Jonny comes to the conclusion that despite how smart he believes Peekaboo to be, Peekaboo is not actually human, despite appearances, and he’s not meant to actually speak the way that humans do. He’s been doing research, up late at night, trying to sort his way through websites and the few books on mythology the library has to figure out how it’s even possible for Peekaboo to exist, and if baby carrots are actually good for him. There’s really nothing on the Internet or in the books about how mermaids communicate, except for that weird special on Animal Planet that speculated that mermaids use clicks and low frequency songs to speak to one another like dolphins and whales. The noises Peekaboo makes _are_ clicks, but Jonny would have no way of knowing if Peekaboo sings in low frequencies.

He comes to accept the fact that Peekaboo can start words and not finish them, until one day, Peekaboo comes up in the tide to get his breakfast, saying sternly to Juliette when she tries to take the fish from Jonny, “No.”

Jonny drops the fish in the sand. Juliette grabs it before Peekaboo can.

“No!” Peekaboo says to Juliette. “Ju, no!” It’s too late, because Juliette trots out of his reach to scarf the fish down.

“Puh, _puh_ ,” Peekaboo whines at Jonny.

“I know, I know,” says Jonny when Peekaboo touches the bottom of his shirt grumpily. He pulls out a pack of fish and just hands it to Peekaboo. Peekaboo already knows to rip the plastic away; he’s been watching Jonny long enough to know how to get what he wants.

Jonny stares as Peekaboo eats his fish.

Peekaboo has always been fascinated with the plastic wrapper, often taking it and wrapping things he finds on the beach in it. Sometimes he tries to put it in his mouth to savor the taste of the fish, but Jonny hates when he does that because Peekaboo might choke. When he tries to take it away, Peekaboo says, “No.”

It’s not just Peekaboo starting a word and never finishing it. It’s Peekaboo understanding the meaning of a word and knowing _how_ to use it.

Like a toddler, ‘no’ soon becomes Peekaboo’s favorite word. He knows it’s meaning, and he likes to tell Jonny ‘no’ when Jonny tries to take things away from him, or when Jonny wants to examine his fin.

When Jonny tries to make Peekaboo eat broccoli instead of carrots, he looks Jonny straight in the eye and says, “Jah, no, carr!” which is the first real sentence he’s ever streamed together.

Jonny isn’t sure what the difference is between _no_ and the other words Peekaboo seems to understand but can’t say. Perhaps it’s because _no_ is only one syllable, but so is _fish_ ; maybe it’s more complicated than that. Whatever the case may be, Jonny takes _no_ as a win.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

“So,” Sharpy drawls at lunch one day. It’s a bleak, drizzly day, and Jonny pokes at his salad moodily. “When are we going to meet your boy toy?”

“Never,” says Jonny.

Sharpy reaches across the table to steal a tomato. “Toes, if this is your future husband, I want to meet him.”

“We’re nothing serious,” Jonny lies, swatting Sharpy’s fork away when he tries to steal a piece of chicken. “We’re more like, you know.”

Sharpy plays dumb just to be an asshole. “No, I don’t.”

Jonny scowls. “We’re fuck buddies, asshole.”

It’s the biggest, and frankly, the most disgusting, lie he’s ever told Sharpy, but the truth is something he’s not quite ready to share. If everything goes according to plan, he'll never have to tell Sharpy or Abby about Peekaboo, and then he can write off his time with the mermaid as just a fling that had to end.

“Fuck buddies, eh?” Sharpy drawls. “For a fuck buddy, you sure are spending a lot of time with him.”

“What can I say? That dick’s good.” Jonny hopes his bluntness will scare Sharpy off, but like everything with Sharpy, it doesn’t.

Sharpy gets a gleeful look in his eyes. “Are you a top or a bottom?”

Jonny chokes on a piece of lettuce. Sharpy just continues. “Maybe you like to switch it up? You’re probably super bossy in bed, but when the right boy comes around, you like to be the one taking orders.”

“You’re disgusting,” says Jonny.

“I’m _right_ ,” drawls Sharpy, the dick.

“That’s none of your business.” Jonny glares over the rim of his coffee cup. Sharpy only smiles and relaxes back into his seat before he gets serious. “Can I at least know his name?”

Jonny panics because he’s a horrible liar. He can’t very well tell Sharpy that his pretend fuck buddy’s name is Peekaboo. Sharpy would see right through the lie. “His name is uh, it’s Jim.”

Sharpy’s eyebrow goes straight up. “You’re sleeping with a guy named Jim?”

“Shut up,” mumbles Jonny, flushing.

Sharpy giggles. “Oh, Toes.”

“I said _shut up_.”

Sharpy shuts up, but that doesn’t keep him from passing the information on to Abby.

“So, when do I get to meet Jim?” she asks one night over dishes.

“It’s nothing _serious_.” The girls are at the table coloring while Sharpy runs their bath, so Jonny whispers, low. “We’re just sleeping together.”

Abby shrugs. “You spend so much time with him, I thought it might be something more.”

Jonny wants to say _I’m afraid he’ll die if I don’t feed him_ , but that would be creepy and a glaring warning sign, so he says, “He’s fun.”

Abby scrubs at a dish. “Don’t catch any feelings.”

“I won’t.”

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

A month and a half into Peekaboo’s recovery, Jonny arrives at the nursery to find Peekaboo in the water deeper than the shallows. He panics at first, frightened that Peekaboo might have gotten snagged by the current, ready to jump in and pull him back to safety, but his panic soon turns into an abrupt sort of sadness when he realizes that Peekaboo is swimming.

Peekaboo is moving slowly. He’s not using his arms like he’s been forced to do for the past four weeks. He’s underwater, and Jonny can only see his tail rise from the water like a hump momentarily before it disappears back under. He doesn’t have to see to know that Peekaboo is moving his tail up and down, swimming normally.

It’s a good sign that Peekaboo is slowly regaining his ability to swim properly, but Jonny suddenly feels sick to his stomach, first at the thought of Peekaboo eventually being well enough to leave, and then secondly at his selfishness. Peekaboo is not his pet, or something for him to keep. Peekaboo belongs only to the sea.

He sits in the sand and mentally kicks himself until Peekaboo notices his presence and makes his way over. When the mermaid pulls himself onto the beach, his movements are surer, and there’s a large dimpled smile on his face, not intended for Jonny. It thrills him to be swimming properly again, and he rolls happily in the sand for a few moments before he opens his arms for Juliette.

“Ju,” he says as he pets her and kisses the space between her eyes, the tip of her snout. Juliette licks his face happily.

“Jo,” Peekaboo says when Jonny ruffles his hair, handing him his lunch. Peekaboo takes the food. As he nibbles on a carrot, he points out to the ocean.

“I saw you bud,” says Jonny, ruffling his hair again. “Feels good to be out there, eh?”

Peekaboo nods as if he understands, and then tries to feed Juliette a carrot, which Jonny has to put a stop to right away.

Peekaboo usually stays on the beach until it’s time for Jonny to leave, tugging at his trunks or hand and demanding a cuddle and a head rub, but this time he eats his lunch and slips back into the water to continue swimming. He’s awkward about it still, unable to really move his tail until he’s deep enough and won’t bang his fins against the ocean floor.

Jonny could go home, but he feels compelled to stay and watch. Juliette’s found a stick she seems pretty damn happy to lie in the water and chew on.

There’s really no shade on the beach. Jonny survives the heat for five minutes before he breaks. He doesn’t have his trunks, but he did a morning shift at the library, and really has nowhere to be until dinner with the Sharps.

He strips out of his shirt, deciding that there’s no point in getting his favorite salmon colored shorts wet. Juliette lifts her head, wagging her tail as he strips down to his boxers, the pervert.

The water feels good when Jonny steps in. He just stands there for a couple moments, digging his toes in the sand, before he decides to head further out.

When he’s up to his chest, he crouches down to dip his head under water, and when he surfaces, Peekaboo is only a few feet away, watching him. He smiles, disappearing under the water, only to reappear in front of Jonny.

Peekaboo smiles wide and then giggles, actually _giggles_. It’s the first form of a laugh Jonny’s ever heard from the mermaid.

“What’s so funny, bud?” Jonny asks, but Peekaboo doesn’t answer. Instead he swims away and flips onto his back to float. Peekaboo closes his eyes. His eyelashes are long and delicate.

Peekaboo’s scales glisten in the sun. The scratches and bald patches have healed over, and the new scales are brighter than the others. Peekaboo’s tail seems so much healthier now, and in a week or two, he should be healthy enough to return to the sea.

Jonny will miss him.

Peekaboo is not his pet, but he has been a constant in Jonny’s life for over a month now. He’s endlessly fascinating, and Jonny still has so many questions that might never be answered, but he knows that Peekaboo can’t stay in the nursery for the rest of his life. There’s an entire ocean out there that Peekaboo belongs to, a life ten times better than being trapped in a fishing nursery.

“Hey,” he says gently. “When you’re all better, you’ve got to leave this place, okay?”

Peekaboo opens his eyes and looks at him. One of Jonny’s biggest fears, even above Peekaboo being found, is Peekaboo having any reluctance to leave. He wants Peekaboo’s fin to heal and for Peekaboo to swim off into the horizon without turning back, but he fears Peekaboo has become too reliant on him; he’s afraid that he’s fostered too much trust in humans in Peekaboo. He doesn’t want Peekaboo to think that all humans are good like him, because they _aren’t_.

“Peekaboo,” he says. “You can’t trust people, you know that, right?”

Peekaboo looks confused. There are some days when Peekaboo seems to understand every word that Jonny says, and others where he seems to understand nothing at all, but Peekaboo at least seems to be able to catch Jonny’s tone. His entire body flattens, the same way Juliette’s does when Jonny’s caught her being naughty.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Jonny admits.

Peekaboo cocks his head. He flips over and comes closer to Jonny. At first Jonny thinks Peekaboo might touch his face, but instead Peekaboo moves forward until his arms are around Jonny’s neck, wet nose pressed against Jonny’s jaw. It’s a form of human affection Jonny has never shown Peekaboo before, and it takes him by surprise, but he sheepishly wraps his arms around Peekaboo’s waist.

Peekaboo’s curls tickle, and if Jonny turns his face he could kiss him, but he won’t, because it’s _Peekaboo_. His heart hammers in his chest, but he doesn’t push Peekaboo away. He stands in the water holding Peekaboo until the skin of his knuckles wrinkle.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Jonny feels tempted, in the days to come, to let Abby and Sharpy and Maddy and Sadie meet ‘Jim’. It would be so much easier to explain why he’s always covered in sand and smells like the sea, instead of letting Sharpy crack jokes about sex on the beach, but he feels like Peekaboo is a closely guarded secret, _his_ secret, and he doesn’t want to share.

He feels shitty for lying to the Sharps because they’re the closest thing he has to family while he’s down on the coast, but he’s worked so long and hard to keep Peekaboo safe and a secret that he can’t worry about them accidentally letting it slip that mermaids are real. Jonny loves Maddy and Sadie, but there’s no stopping two imaginative and excited girls from telling everyone and everything that they know a real life mermaid.

So he continues to keep Peekaboo a secret. He tries to spend less time down at the water with his charge. It’s hard, because even though Peekaboo is becoming stronger and stronger by the minute, Jonny is still invested in his well-being. He tries to limit his visits to once a day, and only long enough to make sure that Peekaboo has eaten and isn’t dead before he leaves.

It’s hard to just get up and leave, but as Peekaboo regains his mobility, he becomes less and less interested in anything on shore, even head rubs. He begins to take the fish from Jonny’s hands and slip straight back into the water to eat, and on one morning, the only thing that draws him out of the water is the promise of carrots.

This loss in interest in the human world is good for Peekaboo; it means he’ll hopefully slip away into the sea one day without turning back. It makes Jonny frown and get grumpy, self-aware that he’s formed an unhealthy bond to the mermaid. He told himself he wouldn’t, but he’s a liar. How could he _not_ form an emotional attachment to a fucking _mermaid_.

He decides to begin visiting Peekaboo every other day to try and break the bond and encourage Peekaboo to start catching his own food.

He doesn’t bring Peekaboo any food on his last visit, but Peekaboo doesn’t seem to care. Honestly, Jonny barely even sees him. He pokes his head out of the water to look at Jonny, the furthest he’s ever been from shore, and then disappears. Jonny sits for a long moment, but when Peekaboo doesn’t resurface, he urges Juliette out of the water and heads home.

He goes to work the next day and stays as busy as possible, even staying late to answer emails and help a grad student do research. He goes home and does yard work in the dimming light of the evening, making sure his kale and spinach plants are getting enough water and light. He’s been neglecting them lately, and he apologizes to them, before he realizes that his neighbors can see him talking to his plants; they already think that he’s a weird enough Canadian as it is.

He and Juliette take a long walk around the neighborhood, but by the time they make it home, it’s only eight. Juliette goes straight to the sofa to curl up in her favorite spot, leaving Jonny to twiddle his thumbs and clean the already clean kitchen. It’s not like Jonny wouldn’t be home by now if he had gone to visit Peekaboo, but he feels guilty. He hadn’t left Peekaboo any food, even though he’s sure Peekaboo’s lack of appetite has come from him catching his own food, but what if it hasn’t? Peekaboo could be _starving_. Does Peekaboo miss him? Does he feel abandoned?

The separation is good, Jonny tells himself. Maybe if Peekaboo feels abandoned, he won’t like Jonny anymore, and he’ll be more ready to leave. Maybe spending a day without Jonny will convince Peekaboo that he can make it on his own when the time comes.

Jonny’s so distracted trying to convince himself that his decision was a smart one that he trips on his front step, biting right through his bottom lip on the way down. It stings like a bitch, and the cut bleeds for an hour. He looks pretty fucked up the next morning, with his stubble and split lip, but he hates mornings and oversleeps with no time to actually make himself look like a decent human being.

It’s well past noon when he finally gets to the beach. When he makes it to the nursery, Peekaboo is sitting on a rock. He looks at Jonny, crossing his arms against his chest as if to say _I’m mad at you_. Jonny has a bag of carrots with him, but Peekaboo turns his nose up.

“Come here,” Jonny calls. “I need to check your fin.”

“No!” Peekaboo calls back.

“Peekaboo,” says Jonny, stern. “Please come here.”

Peekaboo pouts. Jonny can see his lower lip protruding all the way from shore.

“Come _here_ ,” he repeats with more authority.

Peekaboo slips off the rock slowly, taking his sweet time getting to shore. When he gets there, he sits in the surf, back turned and arms against his chest again. He’s being a little brat, so Jonny leaves the carrots on shore where he can’t reach them.

“You’re being a brat,” he says as he drops the first aid kit in the sand next to Peekaboo. “Puh,” Peekaboo replies, not lifting his fin.

Peekaboo’s fin looks healthier than it ever has before when Jonny drags it out of the water. When he removes the splint, the fin stays straight. Peekaboo no longer flinches when Jonny runs his fingers over the delicate skin.

“Let’s see how you do without the splint, yeah?” he suggests as he sets Peekaboo’s tail back in the water. Peekaboo doesn’t reply. Jonny looks at him through his eyelashes to see if he’s still being a brat, but Peekaboo is staring at him, eyes a little wide.

“You can do it,” Jonny tries to reassure, but apparently its not the lack of a splint Peekaboo is worried about. He twists himself so he can sit up, hands going straight to Jonny’s face.

He drags his thumb back and forth across Jonny’s split lip, eyes wide with concern. His fingernail drags too sharp, and Jonny yelps in pain, which only makes Peekaboo gasp before he lets go of Jonny’s face to dig through the kit. He withdraws his hand triumphantly with a Band-Aid, peeling back the plastic protectors before he lays it across Jonny’s bottom lip. The Band-Aid sits awkwardly; too big for the space, but Peekaboo smooths it with his thumb, looking pleased and satisfied with himself.

“Thanks,” Jonny lisps, trying not to move his mouth too much and disrupt the Band-Aid. Peekaboo grins, before he seems to remember that he’s supposed to be mad at Jonny. He turns away again to grump, so Jonny ruffles his hair, laughing when Peekaboo swats his hand away.

“Come on,” he urges, when he’s had enough of Peekaboo’s stubbornness. “Let’s see you swim.”

Peekaboo is cautious and nervous without the splint. With some gentle prodding, he swims out to the deepest part of the nursery, using his arms instead of his tail until he feels that he’s deep enough. Jonny wades into the water until he’s knee-deep, watching Peekaboo like a hawk, but there’s no reason to worry—Peekaboo swims remarkably well, growing more and more confident as his fin adjusts to the loss of weight and support.

It doesn’t take long for Peekaboo to disappear beneath the water. Jonny stands and watches the horizon, getting peeks of Peekaboo’s tailfins whenever he gets close to the surface, but Peekaboo stays under.

Jonny sneaks away as quietly as he can.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Jonny knows Peekaboo will be angry, but he stays away for even longer: three whole days. He works, eats dinner with the Sharps, and even goes out for drinks with Crow and Antii—he does everything possible to stay away.

Peekaboo is on his rock again when Jonny finally drops in to visit. He’s lying across it like a seal, tail wrapped around the rock as he naps in the sun. He looks healthy from the shore, curls brighter than they’ve ever been. He cracks one eye open as Juliette barks at him, but he doesn’t slip off the rock and into the water. Instead he smiles, all pearly white teeth and dimples Jonny can see from shore.

Peekaboo is—well, he’s _beautiful_ , and not just in the mythological creature sort of way. Peekaboo’s tail is a wonder all in its own, blue-green and long. When the sun hits it just right, it seems to sparkle with specks of gold, and his fins, now both healthy, are the same way as they move in the water. But take away the tail and the fins, and there’s just Peekaboo with his broad shoulders and narrow chest, covered in lean muscle.

Peekaboo’s face is not the face of a boy, like Jonny first imagined; it’s the face of a young man, with long eyelashes and nearly perfect cupid bow’s lips.

If Peekaboo were human, Jonny realizes, he’d be the type of guy he would try to pick up. The type of guy he wouldn’t be ashamed to bring home to Abby and Sharpy, and eventually his parents.

Jonny feels something in his heart like ache, because Peekaboo will _never_ be human.

Peekaboo slips from his rock. He makes it to shore in rapid time, moving faster than Jonny’s ever seen him go. He pulls Juliette into a hug and kisses her forehead. Unlike the last time they saw each other, he doesn’t seem upset with Jonny. Maybe he’s just excited to see Juliette, because Peekaboo doesn’t even make any noise about Jonny’s lack of carrots.

The mermaid nestles himself on his tail with no problem, and then reaches up for Jonny. Jonny leans into his touch. He sucks in a breath when Peekaboo runs his thumb over Jonny’s bottom lip. The Band-Aid fell off days ago, but the skin of his lip is already healing.

“It’s okay,” Jonny says. “I’m okay.”

There’s sadness to Peekaboo that makes Jonny wary. Peekaboo’s gills flutter nervously, and every time he blinks, his second lid appears before it disappears again. There’s something upsetting the mermaid, making him anxious. “What’s wrong?”

Peekaboo’s mouth opens as if to answer, but his lips come back together in a straight line. He continues to run his thumb over Jonny’s split lip, the sadness spreading across his face until something snaps—Peekaboo goes from looking like someone just murdered Juliette to a fierce determination that Jonny’s never seen before.

Peekaboo searches Jonny’s face until he finds whatever he’s looking for, and then he smiles, gentle, and kind, _sweet_. He takes Jonny’s hand in his own and just holds it, tight and secure. Jonny doesn’t know what to do other than stand there and indulge the mermaid.

Peekaboo only lets go when Jonny has to leave. He squeezes Jonny’s hand tight, looking at Jonny with such determination before Jonny leaves that Jonny’s apprehensive to go.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he says.

Peekaboo just smiles.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Jonny can’t say he’s surprised.

When he shows up at the nursery the next day, there’s no sign of Peekaboo. Peekaboo looked too determined the afternoon before for Jonny to actually believe that the mermaid would be there the next day.

He has an irrational hurt, a dumb hurt, a hurt that shouldn’t be there. He hangs around the nursery for thirty minutes, just in case Peekaboo is hiding, or too busy exploring, but when it becomes apparent that the mermaid is gone, he goes to work.

“What’s wrong?” Crow asks as Jonny enters Special Collections. There’s a nasty hickey on the graphic designer’s neck, and on any other day, Jonny would give him shit for it, but not today. “You break up with your boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Jonny says. “Something like that.”

Crow makes a face.

Jonny waits two agonizingly long days before he returns to the nursery. There’s a chance that Peekaboo might wander back in, used to the safety and protection the nursery offers, but there’s no sign of the mermaid, not even a leftover bandage or scales left on the beach.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

A week after Peekaboo disappears, the sky turns grey.

A series of angry, black storm clouds arrive on the horizon. They cover the sun and refuse to rain. They bring with them chill off the water, and Jonny finds himself in jeans and a hoodie four months early. The tourists mutter to themselves about wasted vacations, but Jonny just accepts the awful weather as a reflection of his sour mood.

He told himself he wouldn’t become attached to the mermaid, but he’s a filthy, dirty liar. Losing Peekaboo feels a lot like what Jonny imagines it would feel like to lose Juliette. He finds himself buying fish fillets out of habit, and then having to eat them begrudgingly because he refuses to waste food.

Abby gives him a sad look when he tells her that his fling with ‘Jim’ is over. He’s been single for a long time now; he’s had a few flings here and there that the Sharps have never been privy to, but Abby’s starting to give off that sad, disappointed mother vibe Jonny gets from his own mother whenever his single life comes up.

“I’ll find someone eventually,” he argues when Abby sighs, “oh, Jonny,” all disappointed and sad.

“We weren’t even _serious_ ,” he continues. “It was a fling!”

“You just seemed,” Abby shrugs. “A little happier.”

“Because I was getting _laid_.”

Abby just hits him with the disappointed mother face.

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Three weeks after Peekaboo disappears, the clouds finally break. It rains long and hard during the day, and then at night, a storm off the ocean kills five people.

It’s the thunder that wakes Jonny. He startles awake when someone bangs a pot right next to his ear. It takes him a moment to realize that there is not a stranger in his house banging pots—the noise is coming from _outside_ , where a storm is trying its best to destroy their little coast town.

“Juliette,” Jonny whispers, although he knows he can’t be heard over the thunder. “Juliette, where are you?”

Juliette is hiding under the bed. It takes a whole lot of sweet-talking, murmuring quietly, despite the noise, to get her out from under the bed and in to the tiny bathroom to take refuge in the bathtub. The house moves with the force of the wind, shaking from the thunder. Jonny can’t even be mad when Juliette wets herself in fear.

In the morning, the ground is soaked. There are palm trees lying in the road, and a few of the shutters have been torn from his windows from the force of the wind. The weather reporter writes the storm off as a freak accident of warm and cold air coming together, but Jonny can’t help but feel like it was something more.

He’s been avoiding the nursery like a curse, but as he tries to salvage his kale and spinach plants, his mind can’t stop wandering to the nursery, to Peekaboo, and his mostly healed fin. He hopes Peekaboo was long gone before the storm, back to whatever family he had before he hurt himself, if he even had one, but he can’t stop thinking of the worse. What if Peekaboo hung around the nursery, still not one hundred percent healed but close enough? What if he reinjured himself? Is he alive? Is he hungry? Does he need Jonny?

He doesn’t need Jonny. Peekaboo is a mythological creature whose people are probably a thousand years old, and who have survived hundreds of thousands of storms. He’s fine. He’s okay. He’s _alive_.

Jonny’s internal mantra does nothing to keep him from cautiously making his way to the nursery. The power is out all over town, and there’s no one out in the mess, but he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. Even three weeks after the mermaid’s abrupt disappearance, Jonny is still plagued with acute paranoia.

The beach is littered with driftwood, rocks, seaweed, and what looks like a tire from a farm tractor. There aren’t any farms nearby, not that Jonny’s aware of; he hopes he doesn’t find the rest of the tractor.

He makes his way cautiously across the beach, careful not to step on anything that might give him tetanus. He’s glad that he left Juliette at home, despite her pitiful whines.

The sea is still angry, the waves beating furiously against the shore as Jonny picks his away across the muddy beach. It’s drizzling lightly, and the hood of his sweater does nothing to keep the rain out of his face. It’s stupid to be here; Peekaboo is smart, and he would have sensed the storm coming. He should be long gone by now.

Jonny looks at the rock where Peekaboo used to spend hours sunning himself. It’s engulfed by waves now, but Jonny can still imagine the mermaid curled around the rock, sleepy grin lazy as he comes awake and spots Jonny on the beach with Juliette.

Jonny blinks the salt out of his eyes.

Like the visit before, there are no signs of Peekaboo. Jonny scans the horizon, looking for a flash of blond curls, or a glimpse of a blue-green fin, but there’s nothing but the bleak greyness of the storm.

He rubs at his eyes tiredly. The light drizzle is starting to become a downpour, and despite the time of year, he feels cold to his bones.

He scans the horizon one more time. When he’s greeted with nothing but sea water stinging his eyes, he turns to head home.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

It’s a Sunday when the storm clouds break and the sun comes out.

The day is hot and uncomfortably humid. Jonny slept in a sweater the night before. He peels it off and throws it in a corner as his phone buzzes.

 _meet us at the beach_ demands Sharpy.

The beach is going to be overcrowded with tourists and residents taking advantage of the sun for the first time in weeks, but it’s been days since Jonny saw Maddy and Sadie, and he’s sort of missed Abby’s sighs of disappointment.

He finds the Sharps at a more secluded part of the beach. There are still a fair number of people about, but this part of the beach has boulders that most tourists aren’t interested in being near.

He brings Juliette so she can enjoy the rare bout of sunlight too. She collapses on a towel under an umbrella meant for the girls, but Sadie and Maddy don’t seem to care, by the way they sprinkle her with kisses.

Abby’s reading in a beach chair while Sharpy tans himself like an asshole. “Jonny,” Abby says in greeting. Jonny kisses her cheek and lays his towel out beside her after he makes sure to set out supplies for Juliette: fresh water and a couple of chew toys to keep her entertained.

“Make sure to put on sunscreen,” Abby says when Jonny peels his shirt off. His shoulders are dark from where his sunburns have finally settled. He thinks about Peekaboo, and how much Peekaboo would probably love this weather, after so many days in the dark, but then decides against any thoughts of the mermaid; it will only sour his mood.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, letting Sadie and Maddy smoother his back and shoulders in lotion.

He lies in the sun for a good hour before Maddy sets her sand bucket on his stomach. “Jonny, let’s make a sand castle.”

He and Sharpy help Maddy and Sadie collect sand in their buckets as Abby makes a moat. The castle is pretty lopsided, and Sadie falls on it at one point and destroys the entire left side, which turns into a game of who can destroy the castle the fastest.

They break for lunch after Jonny takes the girls down to the water and rinses some of the sand off of them. Abby’s made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and packed chocolate chip cookies and carrots.

The carrots Abby’s packed are the same brand Jonny used to bring Peekaboo. He glares at the carrots grumpily, until he notices Sharpy looking at him. “Got something against carrots, Toes?”

“No,” Jonny snaps moodily, taking an angry bite out of a carrot before he feeds the rest to Juliette. Sharpy just raises an eyebrow.

When Sadie starts to get fussy because of her lack of afternoon nap, they decide to call it a day. Jonny walks back to the parking lot, carrying Maddy on his hip and the umbrella under his arm.

As he shuts the car door, Juliette tugs sharply on her leash. Her ears perk up as she stares in the direction of the beach. Her tail wags slowly back and forth, like she sees someone she recognizes.

Even after the Sharps pull out of the parking lot, Juliette stays alert, tugging insistently on her leash. Jonny is tired from the sun, and wants nothing more than to go home and take a nap, but Juliette is a fifty-pound pitbull on a mission. He lets her drag him across the parking lot and back to the beach.

She drags him past the boulders they spent the day near, and over an expanse of bare beach littered with trash from the storm. Jonny worries about stepping on nails, but Juliette just picks her way through the sand, ears up and tail straight.

Jonny has no idea what she’s searching for, but it’s getting late, and most people are heading home. He scans the people milling about for any familiar faces, but when he sees no one he knows, he sees no further point in this little adventure. He digs his heels in the sand.

“No,” he says, stern, when Juliette tugs persistently. “We’re going home.”

Juliette whines, pacing nervously.

“Hey,” says Jonny, gentle. He rubs her head comfortingly as she whines. “Come on, it’s time to go home.”

Juliette wags her tail gently, and then bolts. Her leash slips from Jonny’s lax grasp as she kicks up sand and runs away across the beach and to another set of boulders.

Jonny curses, calling her name, but Juliette is a speck on the horizon. “Fuck, _fuck_ ,” he mutters, before he kicks off his sandals and chases after her, careful not to step on anything.

“Juliette!” he yells when he gets to the other set of rocks. There’s no sign of her.

“Juliette!” he yells louder, desperate. “Juliette!”

There’s no response.

He whistles, and when that doesn’t work, he tries to coo, but there’s still no response from Juliette. Jonny searches the rocks; perhaps Juliette startled and is hiding, but all he finds are the tracks of her leash in the sand. It gives him some hope, until he finds her leash with her collar still attached, the little fire hydrant that carries her doggie bags wedged between two rocks.

Jonny panics.

He frees her leash, searching desperately for her. He travels further down the beach until it becomes apparent that there’s no sign of his beloved dog.

Jonny’s nerves snap. He does one thing a step below calling his mom.

Sharpy answers on the third ring. “Toes,” he says. “Miss us already?”

“Juliette ran away,” Jonny nearly sobs into the phone, but he holds himself together.

Sharpy hangs up without a goodbye.

Jonny plants himself on a rock and waits. Sharpy shows up eventually with two large flashlights and a spare leash.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he says when he hands over a flashlight. “We’ll find her.”

Jonny nods. It’s getting dark, and with the sunlight waning, it will be even harder to find his dog.

They split off in opposite directions. Jonny doubles back to the parking lot, calling Juliette’s name, checking any hiding spots: under the lifeguard stand, under cars, near the palm trees, while Sharpy stays on the beach, walking back and forth between the set of boulders, and the bare expanse of beach, but to no avail. Juliette is not hiding under a lifeguard stand, or under a car, and she’s not roaming between the boulders or out on the beach. She’s _gone_.

“Hey,” says Sharpy, gentle, when they have to call it quits. It’s too dark to keep searching, even with the aid of the flashlights. “She’s a smart girl. She’ll turn up eventually.”

Jonny frowns deeply. Sharpy wraps an arm around his shoulders. “Who knows? She might even be waiting for you at home.” He guides Jonny back to the parking lot.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Juliette is not waiting for him at home.

He walks the perimeter of the house with his flashlight, just in case Juliette has returned home and is hiding, but he doesn’t find her.

The house is quiet and dark. When Jonny flips on the light, he’s met with Juliette’s toys scattered across the living room. He rubs at his eye with his knuckle stubbornly, trying to convince himself that it’s stupid to cry over a lost pet. But Juliette is his everything; she’s his loyal company, his family, the one thing he looks forward to coming home to at night.

He crawls into bed early, stuffing his pillows along his side to create the illusion that she’s there with him.

The next morning he wakes early. He showers, and then heads back down to the beach, a plastic bag full of treats in hand. He tries another part of the beach, a little further away, but there’s still no sign of Juliette.

He searches for what seems like hours, combing the beach and calling Juliette’s name, but he has to call it quits to head to work. He could probably call out sick, but Crow can always tell when he’s lying, and losing his beloved dog isn’t a legitimate excuse to not go to work.

“Oh no,” says Antii when Jonny conveys his misery at the help desk. “I will keep my eyes open.” Teuvo nods next to him. Teuvo pretends like he doesn’t know any English, but Antti likes to play a game where he says a lie about Teuvo, and Teuvo has to quickly deny it in English. He’s a good kid. Jonny resists the urge to ruffle his hair.

At noon, Abby texts him a picture of the girls on the beach. Maddy and Sadie both have leashes in their hands and little hats to keep the sun out of their eyes.

 _thanks_ he replies, holding out to some sort of hope that Abby and the girls will manage to find Juliette.

Jonny’s distracted for most of the day, leaving early, ready to head back to the beach and continue his search. He meets up with Abby and the girls, holding Sadie on his hip as he searches the parking lot again.

He read somewhere to leave an article of clothing for the dog to trace back to their owner, so he puts his sweater at the bottom of a tree in the parking lot. Sadie and Maddy leave their hats too, and Abby a sock. If Jonny’s scent doesn’t lure Juliette back, perhaps the scent of her other favorite people will.

Jonny checks back early the next morning, but there’s still no sign of Juliette. He leaves another sweater, just in case the smell of salt obscured his scent.

For three days straight, Jonny wakes early, searches every part of the beach, goes to work, and then continues his search. When he’s at work, and the Sharps have no other plans, Abby and the girls comb the beaches, and even make missing dog posters to post around town.

There are no signs of Juliette by the end of the week, not even a spotting.

Jonny’s distraught.

He lays out a map and circles every part of the beach that they’ve already searched. The coastline goes for _miles_ —straight up the east coast, but Jonny’s sure Juliette’s stayed close to town, or at least he _hopes_ she has. She’s a smart girl, and she knows who feeds her.

She’s probably thirsty and starving; _alone_. The clouds of doom haven’t come back, but that doesn’t make any difference. It’s sunny and hot as balls during the day. If Juliette has no access to fresh water, then she’s probably dehydrated and drinking sea water, which is just going to kill her, _faster_.

Jonny puts his head on his desk in defeat. He might never find Juliette again; she’ll die all alone.

He closes his eyes, trying to think positive thoughts. Maybe some kind soul has found and taken her in, and just hasn’t seen the lost dog posters or turned her into the shelter yet. Maybe they have no intention of returning her. Maybe she’s found a cozy home with a nice, little old lady who lets Juliette sleep in her bed and gives her sausages.

Or maybe someone horrible has found her. She’s a pitbull, a pretty one at that, but she’s been spayed. What if they find her useless and kill her? What if she’s used as a bait dog to help build up the confidence of fighting dogs?

She’s fine, he tells himself. She _has_ to be fine. She’s a smart dog. She’ll find food and fresh water and eventually make her way back to Jonny.

He opens his eyes, sighing. The map is spread out in front of him, red ink making his eyes burn. He rubs his eyes to make them feel better, and when his vision settles, his eyes land on a blank space on the map.

He grabs his car keys.

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

The nursery is quiet.

The tractor tire still lays ominously in the middle of the beach.

Without the sea looking like it’s about to engulf the land, the nursery is beautiful. Peekaboo’s sunbathing rock still lies in the water, seemingly unaffected by the storm. He would be devastated to lose Juliette.

The nursery remains quiet. Jonny cups his hands against his mouth. “Juliette!”

There’s nothing. Jonny swallows, opening his mouth to shout again, but suddenly he’s interrupted by a low, sharp bark.

“Juliette!”

There’s silence, and then another bark from Jonny’s left. He squints down the beach. He can’t see anything, but he would know that bark anywhere. He starts to run.

The barks grow louder and louder. Jonny turns a corner on a boulder, and there, happy as a clam, is Juliette.

He all but collapses in the sand when she runs to him. “Baby girl,” he sighs, meaning to be stern, but it’s hard to be in his happiness to see her. She’s alive, and she doesn’t look hurt. She wags her tail rapidly, licking his face before she trots off.

“ _Juliette_!” snaps Jonny; he doesn’t want her running off again. She ignores him to sniff at a stone.

He makes an exasperated sound, because it’s obvious that he’s missed her, but she hasn’t seemed to miss him, which is honestly a little heartbreaking. “Did you even miss me?”

Juliette barks at the stone. It’s fairly large, but it’s shaped like a square, unlike the circular boulders lying about. Jonny doesn’t see what’s so interesting about it.

“Come here,” he says, making his way over. “We need to get you home.”

Juliette whines. She cocks her head at the stone, barking again. “It’s a _rock_.” He takes a moment to stroke down her back, checking for any signs of injury as Juliette whines at the object of her affection.

Jonny gets to her tail—there’s a cut that will probably need a good cleaning—when he feels eyes on him. He lifts his head slowly.

He wants to be surprised by the familiar blue eyes staring back at him, but honestly, he’s not. “Peekaboo.”

Peekaboo grins.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Peekaboo has a black eye.

It’s not bad enough for his eye to swell, but there are angry purple and black bruises under his lid. It looks painful, on top of his split lip. “The storm beat you up pretty bad, eh buddy?”

Peekaboo doesn’t reply. He’s hiding behind the rock. His curls are longer and just as messy as they’ve always been, but other than the split lip and black eye, he appears okay—except that when he reaches out to push a curl behind his ear, Jonny notices that the fin that should be on his elbow is missing.

“Are you hurt?”

Peekaboo remains quiet, pulling his arm to his chest. Jonny can see his torso, but his tail is hidden behind the rest of the rock.

“Where are you hurt? Did you get beached?” Jonny stands, Peekaboo crouching down. His hair moves, exposing his pale neck. His gills are gone.

“Peekaboo,” says Jonny, slowly.

Peekaboo watches Jonny with wide eyes as he comes around the stone. Peekaboo’s eerie second lid is nowhere in sight. He tries to bare his teeth, but one is depressingly missing. Without his gills, he looks as harmful as a two-year-old.

Jonny’s just figuring out the logistics of getting Peekaboo from the high point of the beach that he’s stuck on down to the safety of the water (Jonny will probably have to carry him, because he can’t as well _drag_ him), when he looks down, realizing that Peekaboo’s pelvis is no longer attached to his tail.

In place of Peekaboo’s striking tail are a set of long, pale, bruised legs. Pale, bruised legs attached to a naked pelvis—a pelvis that belongs to _Peekaboo_.

“Peekaboo,” says Jonny, incredulous.

Peekaboo doesn’t even look mildly guilty, or even remotely upset. He sits up fully, running his hands up and down his new appendages, flinching when he hits a particularly nasty bruise. His legs look weak, like they’re a few missed meals away from being emaciated.

Peekaboo stretches forward to touch his toes. Over the curve of his shoulder, Jonny can see scratches and cuts across his upper back, which probably carry on lower. Peekaboo looks like he’s been thrown around and beaten up by the rocks. The cuts and scrapes will need to be washed out and cleaned before they become infected.

Jonny crouches down next to the mermaid; Peekaboo tilts his head to look at Jonny. He blinks slowly, before his mouth morphs into a sweet smile. It’s obvious that he doesn’t have much control over his new legs, because he throws himself at Jonny, legs still out in front him. Jonny catches Peekaboo in his arms, falling back onto his ass, dragging Peekaboo with him.

Peekaboo is a heavy weight in Jonny’s arms. He smells like sweat and sea salt, curls dirty where Jonny’s fingers tangle in them. His skin has lost its silky smoothness, and when he sighs, lips dragging across Jonny’s chin, they’re chapped as he breathes shallowly.

Jonny doesn’t know how long Peekaboo’s been stranded on the beach, or when he ate or drank fresh water last. His first thought is to get Peekaboo back down to the water. Maybe this is what happens to mermaids when they’ve been out of water for too long; they don’t dry up like beached whales, instead they sprout legs, and probably die just as equally painful deaths as their marine counterparts because their legs are too weak, and the distance too far, for them to get back into the safety of the water.

Jonny detaches himself from Peekaboo momentarily to stand. The mermaid isn’t easy to lift straight off the ground, but Jonny manages, scooping Peekaboo up into his arms. Peekaboo squawks, looking non-too-pleased to be off the ground, and even less pleased to be heading back to the sea.

“Don’t worry,” says Jonny, as Peekaboo struggles in his arms. “I’ve got you.”

Peekaboo squawks again. He struggles, legs flailing as Jonny makes his way down. Jonny’s tempted to drop his ass in the dirt.

 _Peekaboo_ ,” he growls, when Peekaboo snaps his teeth at the air, literally trying to crawl his way out of Jonny’s arms. “Stop. I’m trying to _help_.”

Jonny basically drops Peekaboo in the surf. The mermaid lands with an _humph_. The ocean water washes over Peekaboo’s legs, but they stay stubbornly and distinctively human. Peekaboo bares his teeth with a growl.

“Okay,” says Jonny. “That didn’t work.”

Peekaboo glares.

Jonny stubbornly waits another minute, just in case these things aren’t spontaneous, while Peekaboo sits grumpily in the water. By the time the minute is over, Peekaboo is not only naked, but he’s naked and wet and covered in sand, and not pleased at all.

Lifting the mermaid is even harder in wet sand than it is in dry sand, especially since Peekaboo can’t do much to help. He gives Jonny his worse glare when he’s finally safe in Jonny’s arms, but it’s weaker this time—it’s becoming quite apparent that Peekaboo is tired. He sags in Jonny’s arms, beginning to shiver.

“We’ll get this figured out,” says Jonny, heading back up the beach, where Juliette is waiting next to the rock. She licks Peekaboo’s toes, which causes the mermaid to squirm, giggling a snort.

When they reach the Jeep, Jonny struggles to get the hatch open. Peekaboo might be skinny, but he still weighs the equivalent to a grown man. Jonny fumbles for the handle until Peekaboo figures out what he’s trying to do, grabbing the handle for him.

“Lift up,” commands Jonny, catching the rest of the hatch when Peekaboo can’t lift the door any higher.

Jonny sets Peekaboo down, legs over the edge, one hand around his waist to support him, wrapping Juliette’s blanket around his shoulders. It’s dirty and covered in dog hair, but at least it will give Peekaboo some sort of warmth until they get home.

Jonny helps Peekaboo swing his legs over into the hatch. “Why don’t you ride back here? With Juliette? It’ll be easier to get you out of the car.” As if summoned by her name, Juliette jumps into the hatch. She licks Jonny’s face, and then plops down, a protective force over Peekaboo’s skinny legs.

Peekaboo’s fingers immediately go to Juliette’s head to play with her ears. It’s almost manic the way he does it—all of his attention is centered on tugging gently at the dog’s ears. Juliette lets it be done without any protest.

“Hey,” says Jonny, drawing Peekaboo’s attention away from Juliette’s ears with a firm hand on Peekaboo’s cheek. He forces the mermaid to look at him. “Hey, everything’s going to be okay. I’m here now.”

Peekaboo sighs, a whole body thing, most of the tension leaving his body. “I’m going to be up front driving,” explains Jonny. “Juliette will be here to keep you safe.”

Juliette lies her head on Peekaboo’s knees. Jonny pats her rump affectionately, before he gives Peekaboo a reassuring smile. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he repeats, closing the hatch.

Jonny has to take a moment to collect himself when he climbs into the driver’s seat. He can see Peekaboo’s mop of blond curls in the rearview. He’s leaning against the back row of seats. There’s a slump in his shoulders that worries Jonny. Jonny takes a deep breath and reverses out of his spot.

He drives slower than necessary on a one-lane road, and the asshole behind him rides his ass, but Jonny’s afraid to go any faster, in case the landscape outside makes Peekaboo dizzy, or Jonny loses control of the car.

It’s the middle of the afternoon when he pulls into his driveway. He must leave Peekaboo in the car to get the front door propped open. When he returns, Peekaboo is a little panicky.

His eyes are wide. Juliette is aggressively licking tears away from his cheek. He’s pale as he clutches the blanket in his thin fingers, looking at Jonny like he doesn’t know who Jonny is.

“Hey,” says Jonny, tucking a curl behind Peekaboo’s ear. “I’m right here. Everything’s going to be okay.” He digs his fingers into the dirty hair, massaging; Peekaboo closes his eyes, leaning into the touch. When his eyes reopen, he looks at Jonny clearer. He parts his lips and coughs.

“Let’s get you inside,” says Jonny.

Jonny’s neighbors are, for once, nowhere to be found. It makes it easier to slide Peekaboo out of the car and into his arms. He doesn’t want anyone asking any questions, although his neighbors are going to get suspicious if Peekaboo remains human for long.

Jonny doesn’t bring people home often, especially not people covered in bruises and cuts and wearing nothing but a plaid blanket. He’ll have to think of an excuse for Peekaboo’s sudden appearance, and fast.

Juliette makes herself at home right away. She trots happily into the house, going straight to her water dish, and once she’s had her fill, she hops onto the couch, settling down for a nap. Peekaboo looks curiously around the room, head tucked against Jonny’s chest. He’s shivering again, despite the blanket and the afternoon heat.

Jonny takes Peekaboo straight to the bathroom. He sets Peekaboo’s feet in the tub, removing the blanket, before he helps the mermaid settle so he’s lying gently on his back, propped against the back of the tub.

Peekaboo looks around the bathroom. He makes a pitiful noise, like a poor man’s intimidation of a dolphin click. He frowns, hands immediately at his throat to rub at where his vocal chords are.

“People can’t make those noises,” Jonny explains when Peekaboo gives him a betrayed look. When Peekaboo’s face remains on betrayal, Jonny says quickly, “we’ll find you different noises to make.”

Peekaboo scrunches his nose in distaste, sinking lower in the bath.

Jonny sighs, starting the bath. As soon as the water begins to the flow from the spout, Peekaboo perks up. He watches the water touch his toes, and then sits up straighter, watching the water fill up before Jonny puts the stopper in.

Jonny only lets the tub fill up halfway. It isn’t enough to submerge Peekaboo, but it’s enough to get him clean; dirt is already clouding the water. Jonny scoops the warm water into his cupped hands and lets it flow over Peekaboo’s back where the cuts aren’t as bad as he originally thought. They’re more like scrapes, like Peekaboo was thrashed back and forth against something hard, like a rock, which means he probably did get caught in the storm, and if Peekaboo had been caught in the storm, that means he never really did leave the safety of the nursery. He could have been there for _weeks_ without Jonny knowing.

Peekaboo startles. He’s been tracing his fingers over the cool tile of the wall. “Shh,” Jonny mumbles, pouring more water. Blood seeps slowly out of some of the scrapes; Peekaboo winces when Jonny presses against the skin. None of the scrapes look infected, but Jonny wants to rinse them with soap and alcohol before they do get sickly.

He leaves Peekaboo in the bathtub to collect the first aid kit from the car. On the way back in, Jonny stops to give Juliette a kiss on the head. She thumps her tail against the couch, following him to the bathroom. She stops in the doorway with a whine. “Hush,” he scolds. “It’s your turn next.”

Juliette whines, lying down, head on her paws.

Peekaboo has managed to get a hold of Jonny’s body sponge. He has it in his mouth. It’s a bit more than disgusting—Jonny uses that to _wash_ —but Peekaboo looks happy, and calm. Jonny will let him have it, if it keeps him distracted.

Jonny lathers a washcloth with soap, starting to clean Peekaboo’s arms, careful to scrub at the places not covered in bruises. The mermaid whines around the sponge, squishing his face in dislike, but he doesn’t try and get away.

Jonny works the cloth under Peekaboo’s armpits, around his neck, and down his chest. He stops momentarily to wring the cloth out and cover it in more soap, before he works his way down between the mermaid’s legs, washing his thighs and cock with discretion. When he’s done, he sets the cloth on the edge of the tub, reaching back for the rubbing alcohol. When Jonny turns back, Peekaboo has spit out the sponge, and is using the washcloth to wipe at his legs.

“Good job buddy,” Jonny praises, ruffling the mermaid’s hair.

Peekaboo doesn’t take well to the rubbing alcohol; the first drop of it against a cut has him snapping his teeth. Jonny has to hold him by his neck, and ends up pouring the majority of the bottle down the mermaid’s back. Peekaboo struggles, getting water everywhere. By the time Jonny’s done, he’s soaked, and Juliette is shaking out her fur in the middle of the hallway.

“Jesus, Peeks,” snaps Jonny.

Peekaboo grunts. His face is flushed red, and he snatches the sponge from where it fell in the water. This time he doesn’t put it in his mouth; instead he squishes it repeatedly against the wall.

“You’re such a baby,” mutters Jonny. He squirts shampoo onto his hands and sits on the edge of the tub. Peekaboo turns his head away when Jonny stuffs his fingers into his hair, but as soon as Jonny starts to massage the shampoo into his scalp, the mermaid relaxes. He lets Jonny gently push him down by his shoulders, until his knees bend against the wall, and his head can fall back into the water. Jonny is careful to keep the water out of Peekaboo’s eyes as he rinses the shampoo, not bothering with conditioner.

Peekaboo watches the water drain from the tub with fascination as Jonny pulls a towel off the rack. “Come on, bath time over.”

Peekaboo wiggles his toes. He puts both hands on the edges of the tub, and then, to Jonny’s surprise, he braces all of his weight on his feet, lifting. Peekaboo gets into a squat, arms taking the weight, before he pushes up on shaky legs, standing. His arms immediately fly into the air to keep his balance. He stumbles for a moment, but catches himself.

“Jesus fucking christ,” says Jonny.

Peekaboo lowers his arms to his side, grinning triumphantly. It’s then that he loses his balance, crashing to the floor.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

“Well, at least you stood up,” says Jonny.

Peekaboo sniffles miserably.

Jonny drops him on the bed. The mermaid wraps the towel tighter around himself, trying to bury under the covers.

“Hey, no.” Jonny grabs Peekaboo’s ankles, dragging him down the bed. He wrestles to get Peekaboo into a pair of underwear, and a shirt over his head.

“You can’t be naked,” Jonny argues when Peekaboo tries to pull the shirt off. The mermaid snaps his teeth, getting his wet hair all over the pillows. When Jonny lets him have his ankles back, the mermaid grabs the comforter and rolls into it, effectively cocooning himself.

Jonny leaves the mermaid to wallow in self pity, or to sleep, he isn’t quite sure which one, and fills the tub for a second time.

Juliette is more difficult to get in. She spends most of the bath looking pitiful and crying while soaking Jonny. By the time he lets her go, the bathroom floor is covered in water, and Jonny’s shirt is clinging wetly to his chest.

He mops up the bathroom, scrubbing the tub clean of dirt and dog hair. When he’s done, he finds Juliette on the bed with Peekaboo, soaking the sheets.

Peekaboo has his face pushed against her side, face lax in sleep. He has one of Jonny’s pillows against his chest, clinging to it as his fist curls and uncurls. His eyeballs flutter behind his eyelids; his lips part repeatedly. He makes a distressed noise, head moving, but his eyes remain closed. He’s not exactly having a nightmare, but he’s not dreaming peacefully, either.

Jonny touches his shoulder. Peekaboo sighs and stills. Jonny keeps his hand there until Peekaboo sniffles, burying his face against Juliette’s flank.

“Keep him company, yeah?” Juliette thumps her tail against the mattress, settling down.

Jonny changes shirts, leaving the two to sleep. In the living room, he collapses on the couch, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He sends out a group message that he’s found Juliette, and then shuts the phone off.

He doesn’t know how long he sleeps, but when he wakes, Juliette’s head is in his lap. She wags her tail at him, whining.

“Hey,” he says sleepily. “You hungry?”

Juliette removes her head, trotting off to the kitchen. She sits down next to her food dish, waiting patiently for Jonny to scoop out her food.

He watches her eat, momentarily distracted by the joy of having her back, before he remembers who he found her with.

Peekaboo is awake. He’s sitting on Jonny’s bed, back turned to the door as he runs his fingers over the giant picture frame above Jonny’s bed.

The late afternoon sun streaming in through the windows makes Peekaboo’s hair shine. He looks ethereal as he sits, shirt falling off one shoulder. With the comforter around his waist, legs hidden from view, Jonny imagines him on his favorite sunning rock, smiling as he teases Juliette who’s stuck on shore.

Jonny leans against the doorway. He smiles to himself as Peekaboo moves on to the nightstand. He picks up the old clock there, tracing the hands with his fingers, before he sets it down to run his hands over the nightshade, and down the neck to the base. His thumb hits the power switch, the lamp blinking on. Peekaboo flinches in surprise, but his surprise soon turns to wonder. He hits the power switch again, just to watch the lamp turn off, only to turn it on again.

Jonny lets Peekaboo mess with the lamp three more times before he flicks on the overhead light. It’s still bright out, but Peekaboo notices the change in lighting immediately. He tilts his head back to look up at the light, before he cocks his head in the direction of the doorway. He smiles.

“Hey,” whispers Jonny, crossing the room and sitting at the end of the bed. “How you feeling?”

Peekaboo still hasn’t said a word, not even the all-familiar ‘puh’. He rests his forehead on Jonny’s shoulder when Jonny is close enough. He seems effortlessly smaller, somehow, like the human world and all its problems have shrunk him. He’s tired too, even after his nap; he yawns against Jonny’s ear, and out of the corner of his eye, Jonny sees Peekaboo’s eyelashes flutter.

“Why don’t we try standing? I think you can do it.”

Peekaboo is reluctant to get up, but Jonny can’t carry him everywhere; his back won’t be able to take it. He helps Peekaboo slide to the edge of the bed, holding his arms out for the mermaid to use for balance.

Peekaboo closes his eyes, sighing deeply, before he grabs Jonny’s biceps and uses them to pull himself up in one fluid motion. He’s wobbly on his legs, even with Jonny grasping his elbows to help keep him up. It’s obvious that Peekaboo won’t be able to stand for long, or even on his own.

Despite how powerful Peekaboo’s tail once was, his human legs are far too weak. He has no practice standing on them, and even though they’re lean and slick, like runner’s legs, the muscles are probably too used to the up and down motion of his tail, and the buoyancy of the water, to be of any help. If Peekaboo is going to be human—for however long that might be—then they’re going to have to slowly work on building up his lower body strength.

Jonny has Peekaboo stand for a long moment. Peekaboo blinks at him, face scrunched in pain, but he seems to like standing up, because he tries to adjust his weight, even trying to let of Jonny’s arms, but Jonny remembers what happened last time, and doesn’t let go.

When Peekaboo has had enough—he lets Jonny know by snapping his teeth, a behavior they’re going to have to work on, if this whole being human thing is a lot longer than temporary, _oh dear god_ —Jonny uses the opportunity to scoop Peekaboo off his feet. Peekaboo squeaks in surprise, but it’s much easier to carry Peekaboo when he’s standing, then to get him up when he’s sitting.

Jonny carries Peekaboo into the living room. He has every intention of setting Peekaboo on the couch where he’ll be comfortable, but Peekaboo kicks his legs when he spots the entertainment center, and ultimately, the television. He makes grabby hands for the television, struggling in Jonny’s arms until Jonny sets him down.

Peekaboo immediately sets both hands on the television screen, getting fingerprints everywhere. He breathes hot air on the screen, eyes wide as he explores, his eyes getting impossibly wider when Jonny grabs the remote off the coffee table and turns the TV on.

Peekaboo startles backward. He looks at Jonny, and then back at the screen.

The NHL Network is on, playing highlights from the week. It’s not particularly interesting to Jonny, since he’s seen most of the highlights anyway, but Peekaboo looks _fascinated_. His eyes, still so wide, track the puck as it gets shot across the ice, and they don’t leave the puck, even as it gets lost in front of the net.

Peekaboo tilts his head, like a curious puppy. He breathes out, relaxing on his knees to watch the game. If he were a mermaid—he _is_ a mermaid, Jonny’s mind corrects—if he were his _usual_ self, he’d probably be clicking in curiosity. Jonny ruffles Peekaboo’s hair, leaving him in front of the TV.

Juliette follows Jonny into the kitchen. She trots around his feet, getting in his way, being her usual self. She doesn’t seem affected by her time away, and Jonny wonders, curiously, if the person she had sensed on the beach had been Peekaboo.

It _can’t_ be possible. The beach where they spent the day with the Sharps was too far away from the nursery for Juliette to sense Peekaboo. It’s by _chance_ that Jonny found them together. Sometime between Juliette running away, and Jonny finding them, Peekaboo had washed up on shore and sprouted a pair of legs. Maybe Peekaboo had hung around the nursery, seemingly gone for good, perhaps out in the open ocean, but always close enough to return. Maybe the storm had caught him up, the mermaid probably still too weak to make long distance trips.

 _Maybe_ , after being ravished by the storm, Peekaboo had managed to remain in the water, until he became too tired, and either had beached himself on purpose, or by accident, and Juliette, alone, afraid, and confused, had made her way to the nursery, a place where she felt safe, and knew Jonny frequented. They had found each other merely by _chance_.

How long the pair had been at the nursery is a mystery to Jonny. The nursery, after he originally failed to locate Peekaboo, had slipped from Jonny’s mind. He hadn’t even _thought_ to look for Juliette there. They couldn’t have been in the nursery for long, though. Juliette has no obvious signs of dehydration, and even though she was hungry—she’s a _dog_ , she’s always hungry—she doesn’t seem to be starving, or have lost any weight. And Peekaboo, although exhausted and banged up, seems no worse for wear. He has no signs of dehydration, and doesn’t _seem_ hungry. Their time alone couldn’t have been long—Peekaboo’s wounds are still fresh.

It all makes Jonny’s head hurt, so he tries to stop dwelling on the past, and focus on the _now_. He has his Juliette back, and whatever the circumstances of Peekaboo’s beaching, the point is, Jonny found him before any really harm came to the mermaid; that’s all that matters.

There’s a wall separating the living room from the kitchen, which Jonny keeps meaning to knock down. He has to constantly lean around the wall to make sure that Peekaboo isn’t getting into any trouble.

Peekaboo is still in front of the TV, arranged more comfortably, with Jonny’s prized collection of Disney movies on Blu-ray spread around him. Peekaboo momentarily glances down at a movie he’s pulled out to puzzle at the case before his eyes return to the screen and to the game that’s begun between the Islanders and the Penguins.

Peekaboo has no concept of how the game is played, but that seems to do nothing to curve his interest. His eyes rarely ever leave the screen; he bristles every time an Islander draws close to the Penguins’ net, and sits up a little straighter when a Penguin does likewise to the Islanders’. It’s like Peekaboo’s actively cheering for the Penguins.

“We don’t cheer for the Penguins in this house,” says Jonny when he can draw away from the salmon he’s cooking for their dinner momentarily.

Peekaboo looks at him, and then back to the screen. He points excitedly, looking between Jonny and the TV. “It’s called hockey, buddy.”

Peekaboo’s eyes return to the screen. His mouth opens softly. “Ha.”

Jonny feels all the tension he wasn’t aware he was holding slip from his body.

“Hac,” says Peekaboo.

“ _Hock_ -ey.”

Peekaboo purses his lips, and goes back to watching the game. Jonny leaves him be to return to the salmon.

At one point, Jonny hears a distinctive _thump_ which draws him away from the salmon.

The cause of the _thump_ is Peekaboo falling over from where he was balanced uncomfortably on his knees. Jonny looks at the screen. It’s 1-0 in favor of the Penguins.

Jonny blinks at the mermaid. Because there’s no way—there’s no way Peekaboo fell over because he was _celebrating_.

Peekaboo rights himself, legs out in front of him, as he leans back against the coffee table for support.

Jonny leaves Peekaboo be and returns to their dinner, just to keep his sanity. When dinner is done—salmon, with a baked potato each, and carrots (cooked for Jonny, uncooked for Peekaboo)—Jonny brings in a table mat and some silverware, because he’s acutely aware that if he tries to drag Peekaboo away from the game to sit at the dinner table like a civilized person, Peekaboo might follow through with all of his teeth snapping threats and actually bite him. Luckily, Jonny has a pretty swell coffee table his mom helped him buy. The top lifts into the air, locking in place to become somewhat of a dinner table.

“Peeks,” says Jonny, stern. “It’s time to eat.”

Peekaboo looks over his shoulder, shuffling forward when Jonny lifts the top of the coffee table. He’s immediately fascinated by the storage cubbies hidden under the top, but only because the game is in intermission.

Jonny sets Peekaboo up at the coffee table, nestled against the couch cushions. Juliette is quick to jump up on the couch because she knows she can wrangle food out of him.

“Down,” Jonny commands, when he walks back into the living room, plates in hand, water bottles tucked under his arms. Juliette lies down, instead of getting off the couch. Jonny is too exhausted to yell at her.

Peekaboo picks up the fork that he’s supposed to use to eat, and instead twirls the fork, before he sticks it in his hair. Jonny stares as Peekaboo tries to pull the fork through his hair like a comb. When the fork gets caught in his curls he jerks in pain. Jonny smiles amusedly and then spends a minute detangling the fork from the curls.

“You use the fork to _eat_ ,” he clarifies, cutting into his salmon to demonstrate. Peekaboo watches, and then proceeds to use his fingers to shove his salmon into his mouth. Jonny sighs in defeat.

Peekaboo eats his food contentedly until the third period begins. He loses all interest in his food, even his _carrots_ , to concentrate on the game. Juliette takes the opportunity to wiggle under his arm and lick at his plate, stealing a hefty chunk of salmon and running away with it before Jonny can stop her.

“You can’t let Juliette steal off your plate,” Jonny scolds, but Peekaboo pays him no mind. The Penguins are up 4-0 and have been controlling the puck for the last five minutes. The Penguins actually look like they have their shit together today, and might clinch that playoff berth they’ve been trying so desperately to clinch. Peekaboo, of course, knows none of this. _Why_ he’s chosen the Penguins over the Islanders is a complete mystery.

Jonny clears their plates and sets the coffee table back in place. He shows Peekaboo how to open his water bottle before he leaves the mermaid to do the dishes.

“Naughty girl,” he scolds Juliette when he finds her in the kitchen. She wags her tail at him before she trots happily back into the living room.

By the time the dishes are done, and the kitchen cleaned, the game is over. The Penguins have won 5-2, and despite just having watched the game, Peekaboo is enthralled by the highlights. Jonny lets him be to sprawl out on the other end of the couch.

He dozes lightly until Peekaboo collapses on top of him. Peekaboo curls himself up on Jonny like he belongs there, stuffing his nose just right under Jonny’s jaw, breathing hot and wet on Jonny’s throat. Jonny shifts his weight to balance Peekaboo better, and Peekaboo settles, arm curled innocently against Jonny’s chest. Juliette jumps up onto the couch, nestling at their ankles.

The bed would be comfier, but the sheets are still wet, and probably smelly, and Jonny’s too lazy to move all three of them there.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Jonny is woken, hours later, by a crash from the bathroom.

He jolts awake.

The cable box under the TV says it’s nearly five in the morning. His dog is missing, Peekaboo is missing, and the light is on in the bathroom.

“Peekaboo?”

Juliette comes around the corner. She trots over to Jonny, licking his face. She refuses to stop bothering him until he sits up, and then trots happily away back to the bathroom. Something tells Jonny to follow her.

The bathroom door is wide open, and sprawled on the floor, in front of the toilet, is Peekaboo. He looks up at Jonny, frowning.

“How did you even get here?” asks Jonny. “ _Why_ are you in here?”

Peekaboo looks at the toilet, and then back to Jonny. _Oh_ Jonny thinks, and then—“How did you know to use the toilet?” he asks, incredulous.

Peekaboo offers no answers, as usual.

Jonny blinks.

Peekaboo pulls himself up, and then onto all fours, and out the bathroom door, which explains how he managed to get to the bathroom.

“Yeah, no,” says Jonny, stopping Peekaboo. “You’re not crawling on the floor like an animal.”

Peekaboo sits up enough for Jonny to lift him, bridal style. He carries Peekaboo the short distance back to the couch, setting him down. Peekaboo curls himself up into a ball, sighing happily when Juliette jumps up to cuddle with him.

“How did you know to use the toilet?” asks Jonny.

Peekaboo says, “puh.”

“Right,” says Jonny.

He takes a seat on the couch, rubbing tiredly at his eyes, and then reaches for his phone. There are a few texts from the Sharps and his family, congratulating him on finding Juliette. A sharp stab of panic goes through Jonny when he realizes that Sadie and Maddy will probably want to see Juliette now that she’s home and safe. Jonny definitely can’t bring Juliette to the girls because that would mean leaving Peekaboo alone, and they can’t come here, because that would mean the Sharps meeting Peekaboo, which can’t happen, not until Jonny at least gets Peekaboo walking.

Peekaboo puts his hand on Jonny’s knee. He gives Jonny a concerned look, head tilted. “I’m okay buddy,” says Jonny. “Want some breakfast?”

Jonny shoots off a quick text to Crow to let him know that he’s not coming in today before he ruffles Peekaboo’s hair and heads to the kitchen.

He isn’t sure what to feed Peekaboo besides carrots and fish, but reckons now that Peekaboo at least _appears_ human, he can have a different diet. He washes some grapes, and cuts up some bananas, putting them in a bowl with crushed granola. Peekaboo will either eat the fruit or not.

“Hac,” says Peekaboo, when Jonny hands him the bowl. “Hac?”

“ _Hock_ -ey,” corrects Jonny, turning on the TV. There are no games on, seeing as it’s not even seven in the morning, but there is a behind the scenes special on the Canadiens.

Peekaboo looks displeased because there is actually no hockey being played, but his displeasure soon morphs into at least a mild interest at the going-about of hockey players when they’re not playing hockey. He tentatively puts a grape in his mouth, and then a banana slice covered in granola, and when he doesn’t spit those out, Jonny leaves him on the couch to prepare his own breakfast.

Jonny eats his oatmeal at the kitchen table. He feels tired all of a sudden, overwhelmed. His phone dings with a reply from Crow, which Jonny reads absentmindedly, before he shuts the phone off. He washes his dish in the sink before he returns to the living room.

Juliette is at Peekaboo’s feet, waiting for him to drop his breakfast, but Peekaboo says, “Ju, no,” sternly, pushing her away by her nose. Juliette whines, flopping at his feet, defeated.

Jonny leans against the doorway, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do with Peekaboo now. The mermaid seems content to sit and watch hockey on the TV all day, and as much as that makes Jonny’s life a little easier, he worries about the long term effects of overexposure to television will have on Peekaboo’s brain.

He worries about the long term effects _any_ of this will have on Peekaboo.

It can’t be good for Peekaboo to be out of water for this long, even with his new legs, and it can’t be good for the mermaid to be exposed to the human world like this, but what can Jonny do? Placing Peekaboo in water does nothing to change him back, and as long as Peekaboo has two legs, he’s Jonny’s responsibility.

“Ja,” says Peekaboo happily from the couch. “Ja, hac.”

“Jon-ny,” says Jonny, slowly. “ _Hock_ -ey.”

Peekaboo sets his mouth in a determined line. “Jan.”

“ _Jon_ ,” Jonny corrects.

Peekaboo works his jaw a few times. “Jan,” he says, to Jonny’s disappointment. “Jan, Jan, Jon.”

“Jon,” repeats Peekaboo. “Jon. Jon. Jon.”

“Yes,” praises Jonny, mouth splitting into a grin as he makes his way over. “Jon-ny.”

“Jonny,” says Peekaboo, and then points to the television, where the Montreal Canadiens are practicing. “Hockey.” Peekaboo breaks into a grin. “Jonny, hockey.”

Jonny ruffles Peekaboo’s hair in praise, unable to keep the smile from his face. He doesn’t know what it is that’s finally made the connection between words click in Peekaboo’s brain after weeks of incomplete words, but Jonny’s not going to question, or complain. He’s going to thrill in Peekaboo’s accomplishment and worry about everything else later.

Peekaboo looks down to where Juliette is napping lazily. “Ju?” he asks, tugging on Jonny’s shirt urgently.

“Ju-li-ett-e,” says Jonny, slowly. “Ju-li-ett-e.”

Juliette blinks one eye open, thumping her tail.

“Jul,” starts Peekaboo. “Ju-lie. Julie.”

Jonny hates when people shorten Juliette’s name to Julie, but he lets it slide, just for Peekaboo, because Peekaboo is _talking_. There are actual human words coming out of Peekaboo’s mouth.

“Julie,” sighs Peekaboo, reaching down to stroke the dog’s back. “Julie, hockey, Jonny.”

Juliette licks Peekaboo’s fingers.

Peekaboo spends the next hour repeating those words over and over again, until Jonny goes to shower. He’s quick about it, afraid that if he leaves Peekaboo for too long, that Peekaboo will get into trouble, but when he steps out of the bathroom, towel low on his hips, Peekaboo is where Jonny left him, safe and happy on the couch.

Jonny thinks momentarily about giving Peekaboo another bath, but his back starts to ache with a phantom pain, and he decides against it. He’s going to have to figure out a way to get Peekaboo to be more mobile without him crawling on the floor like an animal.

Jonny towels his hair dry and dresses quickly, grabbing some clothes for Peekaboo on his way out of the bedroom.

Peekaboo is on the floor with Juliette. “Julie,” he says to her, and then babbles, similar to a toddler on the cusp of talking. The words don’t make any sense, but Jonny has a feeling, after a few more days of practice, that the words will come to Peekaboo. Soon Peekaboo will be talking, and soon Peekaboo will be able to tell Jonny what the fuck is going on.

In the meantime, Jonny pulls Peekaboo’s shirt off, applies deodorant to his underarms, and then pulls a fresh shirt back over his head. Peekaboo gets his arms through the sleeves on his own accord, and when Jonny pulls down Peekaboo’s underwear to change those too, Peekaboo insists on doing it himself.

Jonny helps Peekaboo onto the couch, and then standing when he’s done getting dressed. Peekaboo is a few inches shorter than Jonny, head fitting perfectly under Jonny’s chin when he tucks his head there. Peekaboo can only stand for a few minutes at a time before he struggles out of Jonny’s grip to sit.

As much as Peekaboo’s speech is developing, his legs are a different story. Jonny doesn’t know anything about physical therapy, or how to teach someone to walk, but it’s something he’s going to have to figure out soon, because he can’t carry Peekaboo everywhere.

A wheelchair, Jonny decides. They need a wheelchair.

There’s an old one in the library basement. Jonny doesn’t know why it’s there, but he does know that it’s there.

“Okay,” he says. “We’re going on an adventure.” Both Juliette and Peekaboo look at him.

He lets Juliette do her business in the front yard before he carries Peekaboo to the car, setting him in the passenger seat this time. “Jonny?” asks Peekaboo, frightened. Jonny pats Peekaboo’s knee comfortingly, letting Juliette into the back seat.

“It’s okay buddy,” he says. “We’re just going to the library.”

“Lib,” says Peekaboo.

“Li-bra-ry,” says Jonny.

Peekaboo clutches his seatbelt the entire way to the library. He looks out the windshield with large, panicked eyes, like he’s expecting for something bad to happen. When they pull into the parking lot, he seems to relax, just a little bit. He stares at the large, brick building, fascinated, until he notices Jonny getting out of the car.

“Jonny?”

“I’ll be right back,” Jonny promises. “Stay here with Juliette.”

Juliette wiggles her way up to the front, settling into the driver’s seat.

“I’ll be right back,” Jonny repeats, shutting the door before he can hear Peekaboo’s panicked cries. He doesn’t _want_ to leave Peekaboo in the car, but he has no choice.

He could just sneak in through the basement to grab the wheelchair, but he knows Antti and Teuvo will see him on the security cameras, so he uses the front door.

Antti and Teuvo are at their usual spot at the front desk. “Hello Jonny,” says Antti. “I’m glad you found Juliette, but I thought Corey said you were not coming in today.”

Jonny shrugs. “Yeah, uh, I had a friend come in out of town unexpectedly, and unfortunately his wheelchair broke, so I told him he could borrow the one in the basement. It’s still down there, right?”

Antti nods understandingly. “I think so. That’s very kind of you.”

Jonny grins, bidding them farewell, before he heads to the basement. The wheelchair is old and dusty, but it folds out nicely and seems to move easily. He folds the wheelchair up, leaving through the basement so he doesn’t have to lie to anyone else.

Peekaboo is a grumpy, panicked mess when Jonny returns.

“Jonny,” he says angrily. “Puh!”

“Sorry,” says Jonny. “I had to get you this.”

There are angry tears in Peekaboo’s eyes. He doesn’t like the car, and he doesn’t like it when Jonny leaves him. It’s an understandable reaction. Jonny wouldn’t like car rides or abandonment either if his entire world had been flipped upside down.

He puts the wheelchair in the hatch, and shoos Juliette out of his seat. Peekaboo sniffles miserably, hands clutched at his seatbelt again. Jonny sighs, reversing out of his spot.

Peekaboo is still upset when Jonny settles him on the couch back at home. Jonny just ruffles his hair, leaving him to dust and clean the wheelchair.

When Jonny’s done, he wheels the chair into the living room. Peekaboo tears his eyes away from the Yellowstone documentary he was watching—Jonny refuses to let him sit and watch hockey all day—cocking his head at the chair.

Jonny lifts the mermaid into the chair. Peekaboo looks unimpressed until Jonny pushes him across the living room. Peekaboo breaks into a grin, demanding that Jonny push him to the other side, and then again.

“You can do it yourself, you know,” says Jonny when he’s had enough. He puts Peekaboo’s hands on the wheels, showing him how to move. Peekaboo doesn’t like the feeling, and mutters, annoyed, to himself when Jonny walks away.

It takes Peekaboo a few stubborn tries to get the wheelchair moving. He’s slow at first, until he begins to get the hang of it, realizing that now that he has a way of moving, he can go just about anywhere.

Jonny’s house is a one-bedroom, one-floor cottage, with a single bathroom and an open kitchen. It’s tiny, just the perfect size for him and Juliette, but not the best for a wheelchair, it turns out.

Jonny has to push the dinning room table up against the wall for there to be enough room for Peekaboo to turn around comfortingly, and the bathroom, even smaller, proves to be a problem. Peekaboo can’t enter it and have enough room to turn around, so he just abandons the wheelchair all together, yelling Jonny’s name until Jonny picks him up and puts him back in it.

Peekaboo’s newfound mobility gives him an opportunity to explore. He follows Jonny into the kitchen when Jonny goes to make lunch, and instantly starts fishing around in drawers. He knows better than to put scissors in his mouth, but Jonny has to stop him from putting a butter knife in his mouth, and then immediately takes out all the knives and puts them out of Peekaboo’s reach. Peekaboo looks at him begrudgingly, before he goes to the cabinets under the sink to play with the pots. Jonny lets him be.

To Jonny’s utter surprise, Peekaboo manages to park his wheelchair, and pull himself onto a dinning room chair, without any prompting from Jonny. He smiles happily when Jonny sets a turkey sandwich and uncooked carrots in front of him, and doesn’t need any reminders on how to open his water bottle.

He sits with Jonny and eats his lunch, and when they’re done, he gets back in his wheelchair, wobbly and unsure, but still does it, following Jonny’s example by taking his plate to the sink. Peekaboo is mimicking Jonny’s movements, but he’s _learning_ , and learning quite quickly.

By the time dinner rolls around, Peekaboo has figured out how to change the channel on the television with the remote, and can say, _bison_ , _library_ , and _puck_. He still refuses to call Juliette anything but Julie, but Jonny guesses that that’s Peekaboo’s special nickname for her, and he won’t take that away from the mermaid, not that Peekaboo would let him.

As Jonny prepares dinner, Peekaboo remains by his side, getting in his way like Juliette, but Jonny can push the mermaid away as much as he can push Juliette away, which means not at all.

Peekaboo tugs on Jonny’s shirt from time to time, pointing to an object and waiting patiently for Jonny to tell him what it is, repeating the word to himself, until he manages to get it. “Cucumber,” he says. “Salad. Knife. Tomato. Chicken.”

Peekaboo is learning words by the minute, faster and faster—faster than he was learning only hours before. He’s able to look at Jonny and say, “no tomato,” when Jonny starts to prepare their salads, and instead of using his fingers like the night before, he watches Jonny, holding his fork. He struggles with it, getting lettuce and cucumbers and chicken more on the floor than in his mouth, but he’s still using a fork.

Peekaboo is learning to be human, faster than Jonny thought imaginable.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Jonny calls out of work the next day, and the day after that, until he finally relents and decides to take the next week and a half off—he has the vacation time.

Over those two days, Jonny watches in fascination as Peekaboo becomes better at using a fork and dressing himself—even standing for long periods of time, as long as he has something like the wall, or the couch, to lean on, but still too weak to take steps.

Peekaboo’s speech develops as fast as his motor skills, maybe even faster. Jonny asks, “what do you want for breakfast?” and Peekaboo thinks for a moment, before, “grapes?”

Jonny pauses, a little shocked and amazed at the same time. “You want grapes?” Peekaboo nods.

“When you want something,” Jonny explains, fishing the grapes out of the fridge. “You say, ‘I want, please.’”

Peekaboo looks at him confusedly.

“I want grapes, please,” says Jonny, as an example.

“Grapes, please,” says Peekaboo. Jonny sighs, ruffling the mermaid’s hair. He figures manners are better to learn than pronouns.

Peekaboo becomes better at asking for what he wants: “hockey, please,” “grapes, please,” “bubbles, please,” but he still struggles to make sentences, and to understand that he’s his own being who can use _I_ and _me_ ; verbs seem to go over his head, but Jonny takes those as things that can be explored later, and marvels at how much Peekaboo’s accomplished in three days.

Everything is fine, until Wednesday rolls around.

Jonny is too chicken shit to call Abby and cancel his tea party with the girls, so he sends her a text instead, and then shuts off his phone.

He should really know better by now.

He’s just stirring the cheese powder into the mac and cheese when there’s a knock at the door. Juliette immediately starts barking, and Peekaboo leans so far out of his chair at the table where he’s making a puzzle that he almost falls off of it.

“To-ez,” Sharpy calls as he enters the house, not bothering to wait for Jonny to answer. “You’ve upset my baby girls. Prepare to die.”

“Shit,” says Jonny. And then, “Don’t repeat that.”

Peekaboo’s mouth turns into a smirk. “Shit.”

Jonny frowns.

“Toews, seriously,” says Sharpy, entering the kitchen. “Did you really think you’d get away with–oh, hello,” he says, when he notices Peekaboo.

Peekaboo shrinks down. Presumably, the only human he’s ever had contact with has been Jonny. Sharpy, probably, isn’t the best person for Peekaboo to be meeting right now.

Sharpy stares at Peekaboo, and then sets his eyes on Jonny. “I thought we told you, no boys come between you, my girls, and tea time, no matter how cute they are.”

Peekaboo blushes. Peekaboo doesn’t even know what _cute_ means. Jonny is instantly offended.

“Screw off Sharpy,” he says, cringing; Peekaboo is beginning that annoying phase where he repeats every word Jonny says. Thankfully, Peekaboo remains quiet, but Jonny can see the gears moving. “I’m busy right now.”

“Busy making Kraft mac and cheese when you could be eating Abby’s delicious food? And having a tea party with my adorable children?” Sharpy takes a seat at the table with Peekaboo. “They really are adorable, see?” He pulls out his phone, sliding it across the table.

Jonny thinks Peekaboo is more fascinated by the phone than he is by a picture of the girls, but Sharpy doesn’t seem to notice. He grins charmingly at the mermaid. “I’m Patrick.”

“Pat,” says Peekaboo, already shortening Sharpy’s name.

Sharpy, however, takes his name shortening to mean that Peekaboo is telling him _his_ name. “Only the best people are named Patrick,” agrees Sharpy.

“Or the worst,” mutters Jonny.

Sharpy waves Jonny off. “How do you know Jonny?”

Peekaboo blinks, looking to Jonny. Jonny hurriedly turns down the heat on the stove. “He’s a family friend,” he says, quickly. “His parents, uh. They called and asked if he could come for a visit. It was all very last minute.”

Sharpy looks unconvinced. “And how long are you staying?”

“However long he needs,” snaps Jonny.

Sharpy blinks at him.

“Mac cheese,” says Peekaboo.

Sharpy looks at Peekaboo, and then finally seems to notice the wheelchair in the corner. Sharpy’s face softens. Jonny doesn’t know what conclusion Sharpy draws, but he smiles gently and asks, “Can I help you with your puzzle?”

Peekaboo smiles at Sharpy, all sweet dimples and baby blues. Sharpy is gentle with Peekaboo, talking to him about Abby and the girls as Jonny dishes up dinner. Jonny begrudgingly even puts some mac and cheese in a bowl for Sharpy.

To Jonny’s ire, Peekaboo is enamored with Sharpy by the time dinner is over; he switches immediately to his wheelchair to follow Sharpy into the living room. He looks ready to cry when he realizes that Sharpy is leaving.

“We’re coming to dinner tomorrow,” Sharpy demands with no room for arguments. “Abby wants to make sure that you’re alive with her own two eyes, and the girls want to see Juliette.”

Jonny opens his mouth to protest, but Sharpy says, “see you tomorrow, Pat,” and leaves.

“Fuck me,” says Jonny.

“Shit,” says Peekaboo.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Jonny prepares steak for dinner.

He’s antsy and nervous, not necessarily because of the Sharps, but because he’s afraid that all of these new people at once will make Peekaboo anxious and frightened. The mermaid’s adjusted to the human world better than Jonny expected, with only a few hiccups. Jonny doesn’t want anything to set him back.

(Peekaboo cried that morning in the bath. Jonny still isn’t sure what had caused it. One moment Peekaboo had been fine, sitting naked in the bathtub, Jonny checking his back to make sure that the scrapes on his back were healing, and the next, Peekaboo had been crying. Jonny had hushed him, soothed the ache, but Peekaboo had been quiet for the entire bath, and for some time after that.)

Jonny has to step outside on the back porch to grill the steaks. Peekaboo wants to follow, but the wheelchair won’t easily make it over the threshold. “Let me get this started,” Jonny says, absentmindedly as he fires up the grill. “And I’ll get you down.”

“Down,” says Peekaboo, from behind Jonny.

Peekaboo’s stepped out of his wheelchair, and down the little step onto the porch. He’s leaning against the railing for support, but he’s standing up, and he’s made it five steps without falling on his ass.

“Down,” repeats Peekaboo, merrily, _proudly_. He grins, taking two wobbly steps forward, away from the railing. His eyes are on the grill top, and the fire.

Peekaboo can’t stay up for long, and has to double back to the safety of the railing, and the little white lawn chair there that Jonny likes to sit in sometimes and nurse a beer. It’s the furthest Peekaboo’s made it on his own two feet.

He rests for a moment as Jonny stares in amazement, before he’s back on his feet, drawn to the flames. “No,” says Jonny, turning his back to poke at the steaks. “You’ll burn yourself.”

Jonny feels a heavy weight on his back, and realizes that it’s Peekaboo, who wants to watch the flames and Jonny cook, but can’t stay up by himself. Peekaboo’s head is on Jonny’s shoulder, curls tickling the side of Jonny’s face.

“It’s called a flame,” Jonny explains when Peekaboo pulls on his shirt. “You can’t touch it, or it will burn you, and it will hurt.”

“Flame,” Peekaboo repeats.

Jonny makes an agreeing noise. Peekaboo leaves him to wobble over to the chair.

“Jonny!” Maddy calls, from somewhere in the house. She appears behind Peekaboo’s wheelchair, which is still blocking the doorway. She grins, missing her two front teeth, and then nudges the wheelchair out of the way. She steps down onto the porch, and hurries over to Peekaboo, who seems more puzzled, than frightened, by the appearance of a tiny human being.

“Hey Maddy,” greets Jonny, closing the lid on the grill. “That’s my friend, Patrick.”

“Hi Patrick,” says Maddy. “Do you want to play with me?”

“Play,” mimics Peekaboo.

Sadie comes giggling out the back door, holding onto Juliette’s collar and planting kisses on her head. She lets go to wrap her tiny arms around Jonny’s knee in greeting, before she makes her way over to her sister and Peekaboo. Peekaboo seems boggled by the fact that there are _two_ small human beings. “Hi,” says Sadie.

“Hi,” replies Peekaboo.

“Sadie, this is Jonny’s friend Patrick,” explains Maddy, hanging onto the arm of the chair. “Patrick, this is my sister, Sadie.”

Patrick smiles at the two girls, but seems lost at what to do.

“Don’t overwhelm him,” chides Abby, appearing on the porch. She smiles at Peekaboo, who ducks his head, but smiles back.

“Jonny,” says Abby, and gives Jonny a charming smile, which means they’re going to play a round of twenty questions sometime in the future. “I’m glad to see that you’re alive and well.”

“Hello,” she says to Peekaboo. “You must be Patrick.”

Peekaboo looks confused. “Peekaboo,” he says.

Abby frowns. “It’s his nickname,” explains Jonny, hurriedly. “Everyone in the family calls him Peekaboo, or Peeks.”

Abby gives Jonny this long look, like she can see straight through his lie, but Sharpy appears in the doorway behind her, and Peekaboo breaks into a large grin, pushing himself up onto wobbly legs, distracting her.

“Hi Peeks,” says Sharpy, eying the wheelchair with some suspicion.

Peekaboo grins easily. He takes two steps forward, shaky. Jonny steps closer to him, ready to catch the mermaid if he gets too far ahead of himself. Peekaboo grips Jonny’s bicep with a little sigh and says, “Hello, Sharpy.”

Sharpy raises an eyebrow, before he ruffles Peekaboo’s hair, and then berates Jonny for his grilling skills.

“What the hell do you know Sharpy?” says Jonny. “Abby does all the cooking.”

“Boys,” warns Abby. She steps forward, and offers Peekaboo her arm. “Do you want to play Legos with me and the girls?”

Peekaboo doesn’t know what Legos are, but he hesitantly takes Abby’s arm and lets her gently help him down the stairs, and onto the back lawn where Sadie and Maddy have dumped out some of their Legos. Abby helps Peekaboo settle into the grass where he picks up a few Legos and twirls them between his fingers. Jonny watches with baited breath, not sure how to explain Peekaboo’s oral fixation, but Peekaboo follows Sadie’s lead and sticks the pieces together.

Jonny bickers with Sharpy playfully as the steaks grill, glancing at Peekaboo from time to time. Peekaboo seems at home with Abby and the girls, Juliette nestled protectively at his side. Jonny feels confident enough to leave Peekaboo on the lawn as he steps inside the kitchen to make a salad and green beans.

Sharpy follows after him, rummaging easily through Jonny’s drawers for silverware. “So,” he says, once he finds enough forks to set the table. “How long is Peeks staying?”

Jonny shrugs as he slices cucumber. “However long he needs.” He’s been trying not to think about how long that entails. He’s been waiting for days now for Peekaboo to sprout his tail, but the longer Peekaboo stays human, the less Jonny thinks that will happen.

“What are you going to do about work?” presses Sharpy. “Who’s going to take care of him while you’re at work?”

Jonny hasn’t thought about that, either. He has three weeks of vacation leave left that he’s accumulated over the years, but Crow and Antii will get suspicious if he takes his leave out of the blue, and he doesn’t need more people inviting themselves over unexpectedly. But on the other hand—Jonny can’t leave Peekaboo alone in the house, not yet, at least.

“He can spend the day with us,” says Abby, entering the house with the steaks on a plate.

“Abby—”

Abby smiles dismissively, dishing the steaks onto individual plates. “I don’t think your friends took into account that you have a full time job.”

The forces of nature certainly did not take in the fact that Jonny has a full time job. “You already have the girls to look after.”

Abby shakes her head. “Maddy is in first grade now, so I only have Sadie at home during the day. It’s no problem Jonny, really.”

“You don’t even know him. He’s—His mobility is limited, and he has a hard time speaking.”

Abby nudges Jonny out of the way with her hip so she can start cutting up the girls’ steaks. “Jonny, I said it was fine.”

Jonny wants to argue more, but Abby has that final tone to her voice. Jonny opens his mouth anyway, but Abby says, “can you go get the girls?” and Jonny knows that there’s no room for more arguments.

The girls and Peekaboo are still in the grass. Maddy and Sadie surprisingly put their Legos down with ease and race into the house.

“Jonny,” says Peekaboo, and lifts his tangle of blocks into the air for Jonny to examine.

Jonny sets the blocks on the stairs. “Did you like the girls? And Abby?”

Peekaboo lifts his arms in the air for Jonny to help him up without a reply. He insists on walking the steps, and across the porch with Jonny by his side. When they step into the house, Peekaboo slides easily away from him to pull out a chair and take a seat next to Sharpy.

Dinner is how it always is. Jonny sits between Maddy and Sadie and listens to their stories, giving his commentary as Sharpy makes fun of him, and Abby makes fun of Sharpy, except this time they have Peekaboo, who peers at them with doe eyes, and remains unsettlingly quiet.

Sadie and Maddy pass out on the couch with Juliette after dessert and dishes. Peekaboo collapses on the couch, head on Juliette’s rump, out like a baby.

“He’s very sweet,” says Abby over a bottle of Molson. Jonny thinks that she’s talking about Sharpy, which is a total lie, until he realizes that she’s leaning back in her chair to look into the living room.

Jonny huffs, and leans back in his chair too. All he can see is the soft blonde of the girls’ and Peekaboo’s hair from where all three have pushed their faces into the couch cushions. “Abby, seriously,” he says, balancing on the legs of his chair. “You don’t have to take care of him during the day. I’ll get something figured out when I go back to work. He might—uh, his parents might be back, by then.”

“They really didn’t tell you when they were coming back?” asks Sharpy. He’s looking at Jonny with curiosity and mild disbelief, eyebrow raised.

“No,” lies Jonny. “They just needed—it’s um, it’s, hard, you know? He needs to be watched over, but not all the time. They just really needed a break.”

Sharpy clicks his tongue. Jonny doesn’t know what that means, and he doesn’t ask.

Eventually Sharpy and Abby collect their kids. “It’s no problem, Jonny, really,” Abby says, kissing his cheek. “Drop Juliette off with him so he’ll feel more comfortable.”

Jonny watches them leave, and sighs, resigned to the fact that their secret might not stay a secret for long.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Peekaboo stays glued to his wheelchair for two more days, before he decides that he’s had enough of it and wants to walk.

He starts slowly, parking his wheelchair in a corner, standing on shaky legs, which isn’t unusual. Peekaboo can stand and move short distances by himself—it’s nothing out of the blue to see him move from the fridge to the dinning table without the use of his wheelchair, so Jonny thinks nothing of it. He leaves Peekaboo alone in the living room to clean the bathroom.

It’s quiet for a full five minutes as Jonny scrubs the tub. Juliette’s hair manages to get everywhere, even in the dreaded bathtub, and Peekaboo sheds like a motherfucker. Jonny turns on the faucet to wash away the bleach, but not even the sound of running water can wash away the audible _thump_ from the other room.

Jonny turns the water off.

It’s quiet for another minute before there’s another loud thump.

“Peekaboo,” Jonny calls.

There’s no reply.

Jonny sighs, pulling off his gloves. “Peekaboo,” he says, louder, and to his surprise, his charge appears in the doorway, grin smug as he stands there, not needing the support of the door frame to keep himself up, wheelchair nowhere in sight.

Jonny sticks his hands out, ready to catch him, but Peekaboo steps forward, not fumbles, to wrap his arms around Jonny’s neck, and kiss his jaw. “Walk,” the mermaid mumbles. “Peekaboo walk.”

“You walked,” says Jonny, dumbly, realizing that he’s not holding Peekaboo up, but Peekaboo is balanced completely on his own in his arms, like his legs have built up twenty years of muscle memory and strength in two days.

Peekaboo turns in Jonny’s arms, wandering away from him with the ease of a person who’s been walking their entire life, and not the fumbling of a person who’s spent their entire life swimming in the ocean.

Jonny follows him from the bathroom, watching as Peekaboo crosses the living room to stand on his toes in front of the bookcase, and fish the TV remote out from between two books where Jonny hid it.

Peekaboo flops onto the couch like a teenager just home from a long day of school. His movements are fluid, like he’s been dong this is whole life. He turns the TV on, thumbing easily through the TV guide to land on his favorite channel. Even if there are no games on, Peekaboo likes to sit and listen to analysis, even if he doesn’t always agree.

It’s a little unnerving to watch.

Peekaboo has gone from being unable to walk and speak, reliant on Jonny for almost everything, to a self-reliant human being, in the span of a _week_. It’s hard for Jonny to look at Peekaboo and think _mermaid_ —he doesn’t even remember what Peekaboo’s tail looks like anymore.

Jonny retreats into the bathroom to throw water in his face.

Everything’s going to be okay, he tells himself. Peekaboo can’t stay human for long. He’ll get this figured out, somehow.

He finishes scrubbing the bathroom, inhaling bleach fumes until he can’t take it anymore. Peekaboo is still on the couch, Juliette napping nearby, but he follows Jonny into the kitchen, hovering nearby as Jonny goes through the pantry. They’re running pretty low on food, since Jonny usually only buys groceries for himself. He’ll have to go shopping soon.

“Hungry,” Peekaboo says, better with his words and asking for what he wants now.

The only thing Jonny can make them for lunch are peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He hands Peekaboo a butter knife and lets him smear his own spread over the bread slices. He even lets Peekaboo pour his own glass of milk before he realizes that they’re running low on milk and meat and butter too.

“You wanna go shopping today?” asks Jonny. As much as he wants to leave Peekaboo behind, he knows that he can’t. Not only would Peekaboo be a complete mess, Jonny knows he’d be unable to get any shopping done.

Peekaboo gives him a curious look. “Shop?”

Jonny nods, rinsing their plates in the sink. “To buy food.” He gives Peekaboo the once-over. “And clothes too.”

All of Jonny’s clothes don’t fit right on Peekaboo. His shorts are too loose on Peekaboo’s hips, and his shirts are always sliding off of Peekaboo's shoulders. He needs clothes that fit if they’re going to keep playing human.

Peekaboo is not very happy about putting shoes on, and even less happy about being back in the Jeep. He sits in the backseat next to his wheelchair, folded up and packed away, just in case he needs it, glaring at Jonny while simultaneously looking out the window in panic.

The Target parking lot is blessedly empty.

“Just in case,” sighs Jonny as Peekaboo makes noise about his wheelchair. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” He moves forward, pushing the wheelchair in front of him, heading for the entrance.

Peekaboo squeaks and catches up, hands digging tight into Jonny’s shirt, almost tripping him. His eyes are wide as he looks around the parking lot curiously. “It’s okay,” murmurs Jonny, even though, honestly, he doesn’t think Peekaboo is quite ready for Target.

They stand off to the side for five minutes straight, watching people go in and out of the automatic sliding doors because Peekaboo is frightened of them. “Jonny,” he says, fingers impossibly tighter in Jonny’s shirt. “Puh?”

It takes a bit of coaxing, and convincing Peekaboo to sit in his wheelchair, for them to make it through the doors. Jonny runs it, not giving a damn that people are staring—at least they’re in the damn store.

Peekaboo stares as Jonny grabs a basket, putting it in his lap. He looks truly overwhelmed by everything, from the array of objects, to the bright lights, to the amount of people walking around on a Friday afternoon.

“We’re okay,” says Jonny, pushing Peekaboo forward. “We’re okay. We’ve got this.”

Peekaboo remains uncharacteristically quiet as they make their way down the aisles. He’s stunned, not even excited about all the new objects that he can potentially put in his mouth or touch. Jonny keeps trying to remind him that they’re okay, that they’re alright, that nothing bad is going to happen, but that dazed look doesn’t leave Peekaboo’s face, not until they approach the clothing section.

Jonny wants to make a beeline for the men’s department, but Peekaboo makes a noise as they pass the women’s, the first expression of interest he’s shown in anything at the store.

He’s fascinated by the sun dresses with their thin spaghetti straps and light material.

“You want to wear a dress?” asks Jonny, momentarily perplexed, but he reasons that Patrick, as a mermaid, has no concept of human gender roles or stereotypes.

Peekaboo nods, reaching out for a light blue one. He smiles at Jonny when he grabs it, putting it in the basket triumphantly. It’s a small, so Jonny grabs a medium, and a few of the other dresses in various sizes. If Peekaboo’s going to wear dresses, he should at least wear ones that fit.

The dressing rooms are blessedly empty. Jonny’s not embarrassed by Peekaboo’s dress wearing, but he’d rather not deal with any assholes who would try and make Peekaboo, who doesn’t _understand_ , feel terrible.

Peekaboo is more than happy to strip down to his underwear and shimmy into a dress. The blue dress doesn’t fit properly because Peekaboo doesn’t have all the right curves, but it fits well enough, and he looks _happy_ , which is all that matters.

They try on the rest of the dresses that fit mostly the same way before Jonny forces Peekaboo back into the clothes that he came in. “We have to _buy_ them.”

Peekaboo snaps his teeth, clutching the basket full of their meager groceries and his dresses grumpily as they leave the dressing rooms. He stops looking so grumpy when they stop momentarily in the hair supplies section so Jonny can buy new shampoo. He gets fixated on a large blue bow, trying to subtly sneak it into the basket.

“I can see you,” says Jonny.

Peekaboo gives him puppy dog eyes. Jonny sighs and lets him keep it.

Peekaboo shows the woman at the register his new dresses. She’s older and kindly, and probably thinks that’s there’s something _off_ about Peekaboo, but if she thinks that there’s something wrong with men wearing dresses, she keeps those comments to herself.

The car ride home is less traumatic. Peekaboo is too giddy and happy in the backseat to really be traumatized by the car. As soon as they’re home, he tumbles out of the car, racing up to the front steps. He impatiently waits for Jonny to collect the groceries and let him in before he heads straight for Juliette who’s relaxing on the couch. He shows Juliette, who has no real opinions either way, the dresses, before he decides to strip right there and put on his new favorite one.

“Put your clothes in the hamper!” Jonny calls from where he’s putting their groceries away. To his surprise, Peekaboo does as told before he appears in the kitchen. He does a spin, liking the way the fabric moves, before he stops, looking at Jonny, eyes wide as he smooths his hair away from his face.

“Where’s your bow?”

Peekaboo runs off to fish his bow out of the bag. When he returns, Jonny carefully puts it in his hair, cautious not to tangle his curls. When he’s done, Peekaboo spins again, giggling happily, smile wide and cheeks looking like they might burst.

He looks beautiful like that, his happiness only amplifying his beauty. As long as Peekaboo looks like that, Jonny reckons that everything will be alright.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

By the time that Jonny must return to work, Peekaboo is functioning like an actual human being.

He wakes and dresses himself, brushing his teeth without prompting and even managing to make his own breakfast. His speech is still wonky, but his ability to comprehend and learn is _extraordinary_. Peekaboo has learnt what takes most people the first five years of their lives to learn in a _month_.

“You’re just spending the day with Abby and the girls, okay?” says Jonny as they make their way up to the Sharps’ house. “Juliette will be with you the whole time.”

Peekaboo looks apprehensive. He’s in Jonny’s clothes today, holding to Juliette’s leash tightly. At least he doesn’t look petrified, which Jonny takes as a win.

When the girls greet them at the door, Peekaboo’s apprehension seems to dissolve. He’s taken a liking to Maddy and Sadie and their Legos, and doesn’t even spare Jonny a backwards glance when they drag him off to the playroom, Juliette following loyally behind.

“Does he need his wheelchair today?” asks Abby, giving Jonny a peculiar look like she’s waiting for Jonny to let her in on a joke.

“He shouldn’t today,” answers Jonny, realizing now that he left the wheelchair at home. Peekaboo hasn’t needed it in _days_. “It’s a mental thing with him, Abby.”

Abby doesn’t argue. Instead she hands Jonny a muffin and shoos him off to work before Jonny can even say goodbye to Peekaboo or give her a list of his contact numbers even though she definitely already has them all.

He leaves his phone on, ringer up as loud as it will go when he arrives at work, _sure_ that something will go horribly wrong. Peekaboo will have a panic attack despite Juliette’s presence. He’ll trip and fall and break a leg. Magically, he’ll forget how to walk and get stuck in the backyard until Jonny comes to retrieve him.

Of course, none of these things happen. Jonny’s phone remains strangely quiet. Abby doesn’t even send him a picture to reassure him of Peekaboo’s safety and happiness.

Peekaboo greets him at the door when Jonny arrives to retrieve him. He doesn’t leap into Jonny’s arms in relieved happiness. Instead he grabs Jonny by the hand, dragging him through the hall to the kitchen to show him the cake he baked with Abby and the girls.

“It’s chocolate,” explains Maddy, spreading pink icing across the cake. “For Peeks’s birthday!”

“He didn’t know when his birthday was,” enlightens Abby, giving Jonny that same peculiar look. “So we decided to celebrate today.”

“Oh,” says Jonny, looking down at Peekaboo who’s taken a seat to help Sadie carefully spread the icing. “It’s um. It’s in November.” November seems like an unassuming month. “The nineteenth.”

“We missed it,” pouts Sadie. “Sorry Peeksy.”

“It okay,” answers Peekaboo, giving Sadie a comforting smile. “Celebrate now. Together.”

Jonny settles down into a seat to watch Peekaboo and the girls finish decorating the cake. They cover it in rainbow sprinkles before Abby artistically pipes ‘Happy Birthday Peeks’ into the icing.

“We have to wait for Daddy so we can sing,” decides Maddy when the cake is finally complete, which means that Jonny and Peekaboo are staying for dinner and dessert.

Peekaboo runs off with Juliette and the girls to go finish playing fairy princess in the backyard while Jonny helps Abby in the kitchen. When the door to the backyard is firmly closed, Abby says, “Are you going to tell me the truth about Patrick?”

It takes Jonny a moment because he thinks that Abby is talking about Sharpy, not Peekaboo. He’s been calling Peekaboo ‘Peekaboo’ for so long that he forgot that Peekaboo accidentally introduced himself to Sharpy as ‘Patrick’. Abby takes that hesitation as an admittance of some sort of guilt. “You don’t have to lie to us about him, Jonny.”

“I’m not—”

“You don’t have to lie about your boyfriend being,” she pauses, “ _different_.”

“I’m not lying about—wait, _what_?”

“Your _boyfriend_ ,” repeats Abby.

“Patrick’s not my boyfriend.”

“But he sleeps in your bed?”

Jonny blinks at her. Abby says, “He told me that he sleeps in your bed with you and Juliette.” She gives Jonny an affection look. “Your life is your life, Jonny, and I don’t judge you, you know that. Patrick is a lovely person, although a bit strange. If you love him, we’ll love him too, just don’t _lie_ to us. I wish you would have told us about him sooner.”

“Abby,” says Jonny, because Peekaboo _is_ not his boyfriend. Peekaboo is a mermaid he saved from a net that magically sprouted legs.

“Why did you lie to us about his name?”

“What?”

“His name? Or are ‘Jim’,” she does air quotes, “and Patrick two different people?”

“They’re the same person,” Jonny relents, knowing that there’s no getting out of this one. Abby is set in her belief that Peekaboo is his boyfriend, which is a lot easier to explain than Peekaboo being a _fish_. “Sharpy already gives me enough shit as it is. If he had known his name was Patrick too—”

Abby rolls her eyes, swatting him away from the sink so that she can rinse some carrots. “And you two broke up for a bit, but now you’re back together?”

Jonny hums a yes. “His parents kicked him out.” Abby’s eyes soften. “So he’s moved in with me. Some days are better than others for him. So much change so fast just, you know, scares him.”

Abby finishes rinsing the carrots and hands them over to Jonny to be cut up. She’s making chicken noodle soup tonight, something quick and easy and that everyone loves. Peekaboo’s never had soup before.

Sharpy walks through the front door right as Abby is dishing up the soup. He gives her a loud, wet kiss on the cheek before he does the same to Jonny and the girls, who are sitting at the table waiting to eat. Peekaboo is sitting between them, marveling at the spoons. Sharpy comes over, hesitating before he gives Peekaboo a wet kiss too.

Peekaboo laughs, filling the kitchen with sounds of happiness. He turns in his chair, giving Sharpy a kiss on his jaw before he sets his pretty blue eyes on Jonny. There’s merriment in his eyes, true joy as he laughs. He looks beautiful, light streaming in from the open window to paint his face in sunlight, hair shining golden. Jonny’s suddenly reminded of him on his sunning rock, the blue-green scales of his tail catching the light.

It’s been hard to remember that Peekaboo is a mermaid. He’s just so _human_. Peekaboo shouldn’t be sitting between Maddy and Sadie, sharing sweet kisses and laughs with the girls. Peekaboo shouldn’t be able to talk or walk or laugh or sing. He’s a _mermaid_.

“Jonny,” says Abby gently. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” answers Jonny, not feeling okay in the slightest. He’s been too fascinated and distracted by Peekaboo’s transformation to concentrate on figuring out _why_ Peekaboo turned human and _how_ to get him back to being a mermaid.

But Peekaboo just seems so _content_ , like he doesn’t miss his tail or the sea or his sunning rock. He seems like he doesn’t _want_ to change back.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

“Peeksy,” Jonny says as they’re pulling out of the Sharps’ driveway after cake. “Do you want to go home?”

Peekaboo turns to look at him. He’s holding Juliette’s leash, even though Juliette is tucked away on the backseat. “Home?”

“Yeah, home. Do you want to go home?”

Peekaboo’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Jonny home?”

“We’re going back to my place,” Jonny agrees. “But do you want to go home _home_? Do you want to go back to the sea, Peekaboo?”

Even in the far-between light of the street lamps, Jonny can see it when Peekaboo’s face crumbles. His lower lip wobbles, and then his face just _falls_ , eyes wide and watery as he sinks lower in his seat. “Peekaboo.”

Peekaboo lets out a shaky sob. Jonny doesn’t know what he’s done, but he pulls the car over, coming to a harder stop than he means to. “ _Peekaboo_.”

“Jonny home!” Peekaboo sobs as Jonny undoes his seatbelt, climbing out of the car to briskly make it to the other side. He pulls open the passenger side door, only to have Peekaboo throw his arms around his shoulders immediately. “Peekaboo home.”

“Hey, _hey_ ,” says Jonny, pulling back enough so that he can wipe at Peekaboo’s tears. “It’s okay Peekaboo.”

“Stay,” says Peekaboo desperately. “Stay. Stay with Jonny.”

“Okay,” agrees Jonny. “Okay. You can stay with me Peekaboo, as long as you want, okay? I just don’t want you to be upset. Tell me when you’re ready to go back to the sea and I’ll take you, okay?”

“Stay forever,” says Peekaboo, eyes big and determined, snot running down from his nose. “I stay with Jonny. Forever.”

“Peekaboo—”

“ _Please_ ,” begs Peekaboo, like he’s afraid that Jonny would ever turn him away, which he wouldn’t. Peekaboo _needs_ him. He wouldn’t survive in the human world without Jonny.

Jonny could never turn Peekaboo away to live out on the streets, starving and afraid.

Jonny kisses Peekaboo’s forehead, hushing him. “You’re okay. You’re okay. Let’s go home, yeah?”

Peekaboo shakily nods. He buckles himself back and spends the rest of the car ride curled up in a tight ball, looking panicky and confused and afraid. When they get home, Jonny takes them straight to bed, not even bothering to change Peekaboo out of his dirty clothes.

Peekaboo climbs right into his arms, hiccuping. He buries his face right into Jonny’s neck, breathing deeply between each hiccup.

“I’m sorry,” says Jonny, unsure of why Peekaboo reacted this way, but maybe it’s the fear and overwhelming feeling of being in a world that he just doesn’t fully understand that’s finally caught up to Peekaboo. He’s adapted to the human world remarkably well, except for a few crying spells and hiccups, but the mere thought of Jonny sending him away sent him into a downward spiral. Peekaboo knows that he can’t survive in this world without him.

“This is your home,” Jonny continues. “This is your home for however long you want.”

“Forever?” asks Peekaboo, sniffling.

“Forever,” agrees Jonny.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Jonny’s afraid to leave Peekaboo after that, worried that Peekaboo will have another crying spell centered around being left by him, but Peekaboo adores Abby and the girls. He trusts them, and as long as he has Juliette by his side, he’s not at all bothered to be left behind.

He gets shy once, when he decides to wear a dress to the Sharps’.

Jonny’s never told him that boys wear pants and girls wear dresses because he doesn’t believe in that shit, but Peekaboo is observant and intelligent. He’s picked up on social cues and stereotypes through television and their quick outings to Target. Peekaboo _knows_ that it’s not normal for boys to wear dresses, and Jonny _hates_ that.

Peekaboo just seems so _pure_ , like a child still learning the world. Jonny doesn’t know if there’s gender norms in the mermaid world, but he doesn't want the bullshit gender norms of the human world to effect Peekaboo’s outlook on life.

If Peekaboo wants to wear boy clothes, that’s fine with Jonny, but he doesn’t want Peekaboo to think that he _has_ to wear them because that’s what society says. If Peekaboo wants to wear a damn dress, then Peekaboo is going to wear a damn dress, and Jonny’s going to rip apart anyone who says that he can’t.

It’s Sadie, of course, who asks why Peekaboo is wearing a dress.

“It’s because he wants to,” answers Abby, matter of fact, fixing the bow in Peekaboo’s hair that Jonny can never get to sit just right.

“Boys don’t wear dresses!”

“They can if they want to,” corrects Abby, a beckon of progressiveness that Jonny is a little bit in love with. “Isn’t it a pretty dress?”

Sadie nods seriously and then grabs Peekaboo’s hand to drag him off so that they can go play Disney princess. If she has anymore qualms about Peekaboo’s dress, she keeps them to herself.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Jonny tries to pay Abby once for keeping an eye on Peekaboo during the day.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she says.

“You feed him too Abby. I just—”

“Don’t you dare ever come to my house again with a check, Jonathan Toews,” dismisses Abby. “Now go get ready for tea. Dinner’s in an hour.”

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

Everything is fine and settled and good for a few weeks.

Peekaboo’s speech gets better and evolves to using _I_ more often and using past tense and his wheelchair returns to the library basement. He’s adapting and evolving and if Abby and Sharpy have any suspicions about Peekaboo’s ever-evolving capabilities, they keep them to themselves. Jonny makes up a lie about Peekaboo’s parents not being caring or loving, and that’s why his development is so delayed. Both of their eyes get soft in sympathy.

Peekaboo’s spirits are high and he’s happy. Jonny even leaves him alone at home once to run to the grocery store, and returns to Peekaboo as happy as a clam.

On the first day that it’s truly spring, the Sharps plan a day to go down to the beach. Maddy _should_ be in school, but her attendance has been perfect throughout the year, and it’s going to be obscenely warm and perfect.

Peekaboo hasn’t been back to the beach since the day Jonny found him, but when Peekaboo catches wind of the trip, he becomes enthusiastic, and then begs Jonny to go, like he needs Jonny’s permission. Jonny gives it, thinking nothing of it, before he remembers that _Peekaboo is a fucking mermaid_.

“The Sharps don’t know that you’re a mermaid.”

“Human now,” reasons Peekaboo, trying on a pair of swim trunks, before his face falters. “I am human now.” There’s something in Peekaboo’s voice that makes Jonny reach out and hold his hand. Something like sadness and longing. Peekaboo shakes his head, forcing a smile when he has the trunks on.

Jonny doesn’t want to make Peekaboo cry in the middle of a Target changing room, but he can’t help but ask, “Do you miss it?”

The look of sadness that passes across Peekaboo’s face makes Jonny want to cry. Peekaboo nods, sniffling, but he doesn’t cry. Instead he wiggles his way between Jonny’s legs to hug him. “Live with Jonny now.”

“How did it happen Peekaboo?” asks Jonny. It’s a question he’s been meaning to ask, but never thought Peekaboo had the vocabulary to explain, not until recently. He’s been tiptoeing around when to ask, but right now seems like as good of a time as any.

Peekaboo draws away slightly. His face scrunches, like he’s searching for the word. “I ask,” he stops, sill concentrating. “Lady? Sea lady.”

Jonny’s eyebrows go up in surprise. “You asked a sea lady to turn you human?”

Peekaboo nods. He works his face, scrunching. “Sea—sea.” It’s obvious that he doesn’t know the word to describe this mysterious woman who supposedly has magical powers to turn mermaids into humans.

Jonny would think Peekaboo crazy, if, well.

“A sea lady,” he repeats. “You asked a sea lady to give you legs.”

Peekaboo nods.

“Why?”

Peekaboo’s face flushes pink. “Jonny,” he answers, ears red. “I wanted Jonny.”

“You _wanted_ me?”

Peekaboo pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth, looking shy. He nods. “To be with Jonny.”

Jonny searches Peekaboo’s face, perplexed before-- _oh_.

“Peekaboo,” he says, voice low. “I didn’t _know_.”

Peekaboo pushes a curl from his face timidly.

He asked a sea lady to give him human legs so he could live on land to be with Jonny. A _sea lady_.

That’s love, Jonny thinks, momentarily distracted by the way Peekaboo looks: nervous, like he’s waiting for Jonny to reject him, to tell him it was a stupid idea to ask the sea lady for legs because Jonny doesn’t love him.

Jonny isn’t _in_ love with Peekaboo, but his affection is more than platonic, and he doesn’t take care of Peekaboo out of a sense of duty anymore. He cares for Peekaboo out of _love_.

He cups Peekaboo’s face, kissing his lips softly. It’s a brisk kiss, but Peekaboo gasps, face going impossibly redder. Jonny has a feeling that he’s never been kissed.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

On the day of the beach trip, Jonny takes the day off, just in case the sea lady’s magic runs out and Peekaboo spontaneously sprouts a tail.

Jonny never thought his life would turn out like _this_.

Peekaboo’s skin is more sensitive now, prone to pruning. Jonny lathers him in sunscreen, careful to cover every spot of skin to keep Peekaboo from burning. Peekaboo doesn’t like any of it, making grumpy faces the whole time.

“You don’t want to get skin cancer,” mutters Jonny in the middle of covering Peekaboo’s leg. He pauses, now acutely aware that Peekaboo is _human_ and susceptible to disease and sickness. He’ll need to see a doctor and a dentist at some point, which makes Jonny’s life harder. They’ll need a social security card, which Peekaboo definitely does not have.

Peekaboo yanks his leg from Jonny’s grasp to put his sun hat on instead. He’s wearing a sun dress over his swim trunks.

Peekaboo is ecstatic when they arrive at the beach. He clambers out of the car, taking in a deep breath of salt water before he grabs Jonny’s hand, wanting to drag him down to the beach. “Let me get the stuff, Peeks.”

Peekaboo stands around impatiently, taking their towel bag when Jonny hands it to him. “ _Beach_ ,” he insists when he feels like Jonny is taking too long.

He’s a little more patient when they find the Sharps, taking the time to spread out a towel for Juliette under the umbrella while Jonny holds her so her feet won’t burn. Peekaboo lays out Juliette’s water bowl and toys, arranging each perfectly, and when she’s settled, he helps Abby apply sunscreen to Maddy and Sadie, even though he was _just_ protesting about having to put on sunscreen.

After everyone is adequately covered in sunscreen, Peekaboo takes Jonny’s hand and leads him down to the ocean. He’s still in his sundress, looking wonderful and beautiful. People stare, because they’re assholes, but Jonny won’t let them ruin Peekaboo’s jubilant mood. He stands protectively next to him, ready to punch the first asshole who says something square in the mouth.

When the first wave washes over Peekaboo’s feet, he stares down, toes moving in the sand. He looks up suddenly, out onto the horizon. He makes a startled noise, clutching Jonny’s hand tighter.

“Peekaboo?” says Jonny.

Peekaboo turns his head to look at him. There are tears in his eyes.

“Do you want to go back?”

Peekaboo hesitates, but he shakes his head, movement strong and determined. “Stay with you.”

“I want whatever makes you happy,” says Jonny, honest.

Peekaboo is silent for a long time. “Swim?”

“You’ll ruin your dress.”

Peekaboo shrugs. It’s not like Jonny won’t buy him a new one.

It turns out, despite being a mermaid, that Peekaboo can’t swim as a human. He doesn’t know _how_. They go waist-deep, Peekaboo holding on to Jonny tightly, _afraid_.

It saddens him to no end to know that Peekaboo can’t swim. That one day, despite his origins, Peekaboo might fall into a pool and _drown_.

“I’ve got you,” he reassures, swaying gently in the waves. "You know I won't let anything happen to you."

Peekaboo relaxes. He leans into Jonny, leaning his head on his shoulder. His lips are chapped as he sighs, eyelashes long and tickling Jonny's skin. There's a feeling of melancholy to him now, like all the previous happiness he had has been sucked out of him. It must be a depressing contrast to enter his old home and not be able to enjoy it properly.

"Peekaboo," says Jonny, voice hard to get his point across. "I'll still love you if you belonged to the sea."

Peekaboo draws his head back, eyes large and sad. He shakes his head. "Stay with you."

"Are you _happy_?"

Peekaboo nods rapidly. "I happy."

" _I'm_ ," Jonny corrects absentmindedly, searching Peekaboo's face for any signs of a lie. But despite Peekaboo's sudden sadness, he seems to be telling the truth.

"I'm happy," he says. "I'm happy with Jonny."

"Tell me now if you want to go home," says Jonny. "Tell me the truth and I won't ask again."

Peekaboo looks over Jonny's shoulder, off in the distance, like he can see something that Jonny can't, but his eyes return, mouth set in a serious line of determination. "I want to be with you."

"Okay," agrees Jonny, letting the matter slip away.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Peekaboo's melancholy doesn't leave him, not even when they return to dry land to sit under the umbrella with the girls and make sandcastles. He removes his dress, lying it across the back of Abby's chair to dry, and then spreads his legs out in front of him, examining the bruises and cuts from mishaps learning to walk.

"Are you okay Peeks?" Sharpy asks once, settling down in the sand next to Peekaboo.

Peekaboo gives him a smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. When he catches Jonny studying him, he forces himself to perk up, agreeing with Maddy that their castles need sea shells to look pretty.

Maddy and Sadie take Peekaboo's hands, heading down to the shore to collect the shells. Jonny watches them the whole time from his chair, not able to concentrate on his book, partly because he's terrified of a wave snatching all three away, but mostly because he's watching the way Peekaboo keeps looking out at the ocean.

He's longing for it. Longing for his life out there, but he refuses to just _tell_ Jonny.

Jonny would still love him if Peekaboo decided to return to the sea. He would love him and adore him and _miss_ him, but Peekaboo was meant to belong to the ocean, not to Jonny.

When Peekaboo returns from the shore with the girls, he collapses on the towel with Juliette, face stuffed into her rump, eyes closed. He doesn't open them again until it's time to leave.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Jonny promised to drop the subject of Peekaboo returning to the ocean, so he does, although bitterly. He doesn't want Peekaboo to be miserable on land. He wants him alive and thriving and happy, but Peekaboo is stubborn.

Horribly, horribly, stubborn.

"We can only have the same last name if we're related, or _married_."

If Peekaboo is going to stubbornly insist on being human, then Jonny has to treat him like a human, and stop referring to him as Peekaboo. They have to keep the name 'Patrick' to keep Abby of their backs, but Peeka— _Patrick_ can pick whatever middle and last name that he wants.

For some reason, he really likes the name Timothy, which is no problem, but he refuses to have any other last name that isn't Jonny's.

"Smith?" Jonny suggests.

Patrick sniffles.

"Johnson?"

Patrick gapes.

"McMurry?"

" _Toews_ ," drawls Patrick, pronouncing the name just right. "Patrick Timothy _Toews_."

"We're not _married_."

Patrick sniffles again, playing with the skin on his finger where a wedding ring would go. "We marry?"

"Do you even know what that means?"

Patrick gives Jonny a mean look. "Abby and Sharpy married."

“Abby and Sharpy—”

“Abby and Sharpy in love,” interrupts Patrick, face serious and determined. “We in love.” He continues to play with the skin of his ring finger. “I am Patrick Timothy Toews.”

In the face of Patrick’s determination, Jonny doesn’t have the heart to tell him that because Patrick doesn’t exist in the system as a person, they can’t get married. Patrick doesn’t seem to understand, or if he does, is _ignoring_ the technicalities of a legal marriage.

And suddenly, as he’s giving in to Patrick’s will, Jonny is hit with the sudden realization that if he were to die tomorrow, Patrick would be left with _nothing_.

Patrick doesn’t _exist_.

“Hey,” Jonny says as Patrick looks smug, kissing the top of Juliette’s head and muttering about marriage, “I need you to listen to me.” Patrick looks at him, eyes heavy. Jonny’s voice is serious. “If anything ever happens to me, you need to return to the ocean, Peeks.”

Patrick’s face falls. “Jonny?”

“Humans are weak,” Jonny tries to joke. “We die easily. If anything ever happens to me, you need to return to the ocean. You’ll be happy and safe there.”

Patrick shakes his head.

“You were happy before me.”

Patrick shrugs, crawling over Juliette to lie his head in Jonny’s lap. Jonny immediately digs his fingers into Patrick’s curls, remembering the times they spent on the beach fondly. “I’m being serious, Peeks. You won’t—it’ll be hard for you without me.”

Patrick turns his head, looking up at Jonny.

“Promise me you’ll go back to the ocean,” Jonny urges. He can’t imagine Patrick, alone in their little bungalow, waiting for him to return one day from work, unaware that Jonny isn’t coming home. Would he know to call Abby or Sharpy? How long would he wait? Would he starve, waiting for Jonny to come home? Would he think that Jonny had truly abandon him? Does Patrick understand the concept of _death_.

“You sad,” says Patrick, sitting up. The strap of his dress is falling off one shoulder.

“I don’t know what would happen to you if something were to happen to me,” admits Jonny.

Patrick looks sad, pouting his lips. “Always together,” he says. “Jonny and Peekaboo.”

Jonny doesn’t have the heart to tell Patrick that always doesn’t mean forever. He’s in love with the concept of love, misguided by it. He would wear his heart on his sleeve if he ever did wear sleeves.

Patrick tips forward, kissing the corner of Jonny’s mouth. “Always together.”

He just looks so happy, so sure, that Jonny can’t tell him that that’s not true.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Patrick’s melancholy comes and goes in waves.

Some days he’s as happy as a clam, excited to go to the Sharps’ house to bake cakes with Sadie and try wholeheartedly to help Maddy with her homework. He’s eager to explore the neighborhood where Jonny’s bungalow sits, holding Jonny’s hand tightly as they walk around the area, smiling sweetly at Jonny’s neighbors, who, thankfully, smile sweetly back and don’t ask questions.

He’s eager and happy, exploring the world around him and no longer so frightened of stores or several people. Patrick no longer uses forks to comb his hair, and can answer the phone and work the computer and sends texts to Abby.

And then, some days, Jonny finds him crying in the bathtub, eyes rimmed red as he watches the water slip between his fingers.

Patrick never says why he’s crying. He hiccups as Jonny holds him, smoothing his curls back from his forehead as he balances on the edge of the tub, but Jonny knows—knows like he knows that the sky is blue and that the grass is green that Patrick is crying because he misses the ocean. He misses the waves and the salt water and the seagulls. He misses his tail and his sunning rock and swimming.

But Patrick is horrible and stubborn, and he won’t tell Jonny these things. He sobs as he looks at him, eyes wide like he’s trying to convince himself that this is what he _really_ wants. Patrick must have convinced himself once to ask the mysterious sea lady to give him legs, but maybe he wasn’t expecting the raw gnawing feelings of misery associated with leaving the only place he had ever known.

“I’ll take you back to the ocean,” Jonny promises, but Patrick only sobs harder.

“I’ll visit you every day.”

One day Patrick shakes his head, skin pruned from how long he’s been sitting. The water is cold. “Sea lady in water.”

And that’s the worst part of it, Jonny realizes that day:

The sea lady lives under the sea, and now as a human, she’s unreachable to Patrick. He can’t go back to the ocean, even if he wanted to.

He’d drown before he’d even make it to her.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

In the ensuing days, Patrick goes back and forth between being so depressed that he refuses to leave the bed, forcing Jonny to either take off work in worry or leave him at home without the safety net of Abby, and unexplainable curiosity, where he goes through all the drawers in Jonny’s _and_ Abby’s kitchens, taking out every object he doesn’t recognize and demanding to know the name.

Abby humors him, but she can’t hide her concern on the days when Jonny explains that Patrick won’t leave the bed. “Maybe this is beyond you,” she tries, her subtle way of saying that maybe Patrick needs psychiatric help.

Patrick can’t receive any sort of help because _he doesn’t exist as a person_.

Jonny is helpless to even help.

All he can do is comfort Patrick and leave the TV on the NHL Network 24/7 to try and lure him out of bed when Patrick is too depressed to leave, and on the days where he’s maniac about getting answers, all Jonny can do is answer his questions and keep him from putting forks in his hair.

It’s like Patrick is so overwhelmed with the knowledge that he can’t ever return to the sea, that he’s trying to convince himself that the human world with all of its wonders is worth living in.

Patrick can’t keep living like _this_. He can’t spend the rest of his life wasting away in bed or feverishly destroying the house.

Jonny takes him back to the nursery, to the sunning rock so Patrick can sit and watch the ocean while catching the sun. Patrick is not happy to wade through the water, but he climbs onto his sunning rock anyway, nestling himself down as comfortably as he can.

“Where does the sea lady live?” Jonny asks, standing next to the rock. His toes and legs are going to prune, but he’s afraid to journey back to shore just in case Patrick falls from the rock and ends up in the water and is unable to get his head back above water.

“Under sea,” answers Patrick, looking out at the water. He has a pair of Jonny’s Ray-Bans on to protect his eyes. With his curly hair that he refuses to let Jonny cut, and the sunglasses, he looks like a mess. Not even his pretty yellow sundress can redeem him, but Jonny still finds him lovely. “Under rocks.”

“Rocks?”

Patrick turns his head. He takes his hands, putting them side-by-side before he pulls them away, making an upside down ‘u’. “Under rocks like this.”

“You mean a cave?”

“ _Cave_ ,” repeats Patrick to himself, nodding. “Sea lady live in cave.”

Jonny puzzles for a moment. “This sea lady. She does magic?”

“Magic?”

Jonny nods. He reaches out, touching one of Patrick’s legs. It’s warm from the sun. “Like how she changed your tail to legs. That was magic.”

“Yes,” agrees Patrick. “Tail to legs.” He touches his throat, right where his vocal chords are. “Voice. Let me talk.”

“You could talk before,” Jonny reasons.

Patrick shakes his head. “Noises not words."

Jonny strokes Patrick’s ankle with his thumb. “It was a sea _witch_."

“Witch?”

“Witches do magic,” Jonny explains. “They’re supposed to be bad.”

Patrick shakes his head vehemently. “Good witch. Give me Jonny.”

“But at what _price_?” Jonny doesn’t mean to say it, but his emotions are at war. What price has Patrick paid to be with him for forever?

Patrick swings himself around as gracefully as possible, so Jonny is standing between his legs. “I have you.”

“But what did you _pay_?"

Jonny can barely see Patrick’s eyes through the sunglasses, but he can tell that they’re wide. “Family,” he says, short and painful. “Never see Mama or Papa or sisters again.”

Jonny never thought of Patrick’s family as being an actual _family_. He thought about Patrick’s family as a pod, like dolphins and whales, genetically linked to one another but unaware of what family ties really are. Maybe Patrick was unaware of these family ties until recently, just now discovering the title of the mermaids who gave him life, or perhaps he was always aware of what a father and a mother and a sister were, calling them by a name only mermaids could understand.

It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that Patrick has given them up. He will never see his mother or his father or his sisters again because he traded them in for legs and a voice to speak so he can be with Jonny.

He gave so much up, just for _Jonny_.

“You are family now,” says Patrick. He lifts up his sunglasses, balancing them on his head so Jonny can see his eyes, wide and honest “ _We_ are family.”

“Patrick,” breathes Jonny.

“Miss my family,” continues Patrick. “Miss my fish and the eels and the sea.” He shakes his head, cupping Jonny’s face with his hands. “But have you.”

“And what if I’m not enough for you?”

“Always enough,” says Patrick, leaning forward to kiss Jonny square on the mouth.

Jonny has a feeling that he will never be enough.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Patrick doesn’t magically get better, but he does leave the bed more and is less maniac about exploring the human world. He seems happier when Jonny brings him back to the nursery and lets him lie on the sunning rock, or when they go to the beach with the Sharps and just wade in the water.

He’s always happier when he’s near the sea, so Jonny starts to take him every day, either before he takes Patrick to the Sharps' or after he picks him up. Patrick sits in the surf, much like he used to do as a mermaid, unafraid of being dragged out to sea and un-bothered mostly to sink in the sand. He loves the sea, loves the way the sand gets in his hair and the saltwater stings his cuts and makes his skin rough.

He would spend all day at the beach, lying in the surf and trying to speak with the seagulls and lure the schools of fish closer if Jonny would let him, and Jonny does, when he’s sure that Patrick won’t attempt to go any further than his sunning rock. Patrick spends all day at the beach, and when Jonny returns for him, he’s covered in sand, lips chapped and slightly dehydrated, but he’s happy, smelling of the sea. He refuses to bathe when they get home, insisting on sitting in the bay window with Juliette and smelling horrid until Jonny finally forces him into the bath.

After that, Patrick spends his time between the beach, the Sharps’, and their bungalow. He prefers the beach above all else, but he also adores Abby and the girls, and loves playing dress up and receiving kisses from Sharpy when he returns from work. He chooses in the morning where he wants to go, either spending the day in the surf or baking brownies with Sadie.

It’s a wonderful compromise that not only leaves Patrick happy, but Jonny as well. He feels reassured that Patrick is safe and pleased where ever he decides to be.

This, of course, comes crashing down around them weeks after they establish their compromise.

Not once in the months that Jonny has left Patrick under Abby’s supervision has Abby ever once called him. Whatever happens while Patrick is at the Sharps’ is a mystery to him. Patrick is either an angel sent from heaven when he’s with Abby, or a right hell-bent beast. Either way, Jonny doesn’t know. Abby doesn’t once complain, only hands Jonny whatever they baked that day or makeup wipes to remove the leftover glitter eyeshadow from playing fairy princess from Patrick’s eyelids.

So it’s quite an astonishing experience when Abby calls the library looking for him. She’s quiet over the line, like she’s choosing her words carefully. “Jonathan,” she says. It makes the hair stand up on the back of Jonny’s neck. Abby only calls him _Jonathan_ when she’s particularly mad at him, like his mother. “When were you going to tell me that Patrick is a mermaid?”

“What?” answers Jonny, stupidly.

“A mermaid,” Abby answers calmly, like a mother who’s beyond the point of being mad.

“Don’t be crazy,” answers Jonny, laughing nervously, heart beating fast in his chest.

“He’s sitting in Maddy’s kiddie pool with a _tail_ ,” says Abby. “A bright, blue-green tail. He has _gills_.” Abby pauses. “Jesus, does he need salt water?”

“Yes,” answers Jonny immediately without thinking. “I mean—”

“A _mermaid_ ,” interrupts Abby. “You’re dating a fucking _mermaid_.”

“He was a human when we started dating,” says Jonny.

Abby lets out a bark of laughter. “Just get down here. We need to put him back in the ocean.”

She hangs up before Jonny can get another word in. In their short exchange, Abby didn’t sound panicked, like Jonny would expect for her to sound after finding Patrick with a fish tail. No, instead Abby sounded more pissed than anything, like she’s known this entire time and has been waiting for Jonny to tell her.

Jonny gathers his things quickly, bidding farewell to Crow and Antti in the lobby before he breaks various speed limits to make it to the Sharps’.

It’s Sadie who greets him at the door, Juliette at her side. “Jonny, Peeks’s a mermaid!”

“Yeah, I know,” Jonny answers, letting Sadie take his hand and lead him through the house to the backyard.

Abby’s on her knees, stroking the hair back from Patrick’s face while Maddy repeatedly scoops water over his tail. He’s making a gasping noise, mouth open in a frighteningly wide ‘o’, the skin of his face clammy. His gills are fluttering in overtime even as he takes deep breaths with his lungs, his skin yellow and gross.

Abby’s removed the blue dress Patrick was wearing earlier, but the bow is still in his hair as Patrick shifts when he notices Jonny’s approach.

“Peeks’s is sick Jonny,” explains Sadie, settling down next to her sister to cup water in her hand and pour it over Patrick’s tail fins.

“We need to get him back to the ocean,” Jonny says, collapsing on his knees near Abby. He reaches out, stroking Patrick’s hair from his face. Patrick turns his head in Jonny’s hand, lips chapped, eyes heavy. “Get the blanket from the back of my car.”

Abby usually doesn’t like being bossed around, but she goes to fetch the blanket.

“Is Peeks going to be okay?” asks Maddy, eyes wide with concern.

“He’ll be fine,” Jonny promises, unsure himself, but he can’t tell a six-year-old that. “Just need to get him back in the ocean.”

Abby returns with the blanket. Jonny wraps Patrick in it, getting it wet. The freshwater isn’t helping Patrick at all, but Jonny fears that Patrick might dry out without some sort of water before they make it to the ocean.

Abby helps him lift Patrick, carrying his tail out to the back of Jonny’s Jeep.

Patrick hasn’t said a word since he’s arrived. All he’s done is make an awful, gasping noise as he tries to breathe. Juliette jumps into the back with him, settling her head over Patrick’s hip protectively.

“We’ll meet you at the beach,” Abby says.

“At the—”

“The nursery,” Abby interrupts. “He told me.”

Jonny doesn’t have time to absorb that information. Patrick’s gasping has gotten worse. He sounds like he’s choking to death. “You’re going to be okay,” says Jonny, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Patrick’s. “Just have to get you back to the ocean and you’ll be okay.”

It hurts him to shut the hatch on Patrick.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

By the time Jonny reaches the beach, Patrick is desperately trying to get air. It’s like his human lungs have failed him and are barely working. His gills on land are useless.

“Stay with me,” Jonny says as he scoops Patrick up, trying to keep the panic from his voice. “Hang on Peekaboo, we’re almost there.”

Patrick makes a noise at the nickname, arms weakly entwining around Jonny’s shoulders.

Jonny doesn’t have time to wait for Abby and the girls. If he doesn’t get Patrick in the water soon, he’ll suffocate to death.

The beach, even months later, is still littered with debris from the storm. Jonny maneuvers his way through it, careful not to step on anything, checking behind him to make sure Juliette hasn’t stepped on anything.

The water is freezing when Jonny steps in, toes curling in his sneakers at the feel of the saltwater against his ankles, but he doesn’t have time to complain or remove his sneakers. He wades further into the water, leaving Juliette behind on shore as he approaches the sunning rock, the water lapping over Patrick’s sickly skin.

When they’re deep enough past the sunning rock, far enough out that the water reaches Jonny’s chest, he dips Patrick backwards, until Patrick’s head falls back under the water. Air bubbles spring up, like Patrick is drowning, but before Jonny can tip his head forward out of the water, the bubbles cease. Even through the murkiness of the water, Jonny can see Patrick’s gills pumping, slowly and routinely, no longer desperate for air. Patrick’s chest is no longer harshly moving trying to get air. It’s not moving at all.

Jonny lets go of Patrick.

The mermaid immediately sinks, but Jonny doesn’t panic. As long as Patrick is using his gills to breathe, he’ll be okay.

On shore, Juliette starts to bark.

Abby is standing in the surf, Sadie on her hip and Maddy holding her hand tightly.

Patrick has sunk so far down, Jonny can’t see him anymore. He reaches out, trying to get a feel for Patrick, but there’s nothing there but water. He has slipped away without Jonny noticing.

Jonny looks around desperately for a sight of blonde hair or blue-green scale, but there is none. Patrick is _gone_.

“He’s left, hasn’t he?” says Abby, when Jonny returns to shore, feeling close to tears. Patrick is _gone_.

“I don’t know.”

“Peeks didn’t say goodbye,” says Maddy, sadly.

“He’ll be back,” Jonny says, scooping her into his arms. Her dress is wet from the waves. It’s pretty and blue, just like Patrick’s.

“He’s just getting used to the water again,” says Abby, kissing the top of Sadie’s head. “Let’s come back in a little bit to say goodbye.” She gives Jonny a pointed look that says _you too_.

Jonny doesn’t want to leave Patrick, but Abby is giving him that Determined Mother™ look that means no arguments. “He’ll come back.”

Back at the Sharps’, Abby puts Sadie down for her nap and sets Maddy up with crayons and no-mark markers to draw Patrick as a mermaid before she corrals Jonny in the kitchen with a cup of coffee. She sits at the kitchen table, taking long sips of coffee as Jonny pours in excess amount of milk into his own cup.

“I thought it was, you know,” Abby shrugs, taking a spoon that she hasn’t used to mix her black coffee, just for something to do. “He was _different_ , so I thought the mermaid stuff was his imagination.”

“No,” says Jonny. “It wasn’t his imagination.”

“A _mermaid_ ,” says Abby, laughing. “He’s a _mermaid_. Oh, Patrick is not going to believe this.” She leans back in the chair. “He said he asked a sea lady—”

“He meant a sea witch,” Jonny interrupts.

“—a sea _witch_ to give him legs and an actual voice because he loved you and wanted to be with you for forever, and I thought, ‘well, Peeks is a weird storyteller, but he’s _harmless_ ,’ and then today Maddy and Sadie were screaming that Patrick was choking, and I came out to find him with a _tail_.” She laughs again is disbelief. “I mean, we took him to the _beach_ , Jonny. The actual _beach_ and he didn’t—he’s a _mermaid_.”

“I don’t know why he didn’t turn back at the beach,” admits Jonny, letting his coffee cool. “I thought he had to ask the sea witch to turn him back, but he can’t swim. I mean, he can _now_ , but as a human he can’t—he doesn’t know _how_.”

Abby nods. “All spells wear off eventually, yeah?”

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Sharpy is very confused by their need to go back to the beach as soon as he gets home, but he gives in, nodding along to Maddy and Sadie’s story about Patrick turning into a mermaid while looking alarmed by the fact that Patrick is missing.

“Peeks is meeting us at the beach?” he asks, looking distraught at the thought of Patrick being at the beach alone. Jonny never told Abby and Sharpy that the days Patrick didn’t spend at their home were spent at the beach. They’ve been under the impression that Patrick’s been spending his days at home, learning to be more independent.

“Mommy promised he’d come back to say goodbye,” says Maddy, which doesn’t do anything to lower Sharpy’s concern.

Juliette leads the way to the beach, happily trotting like she has no worries and _knows_ that Patrick will be there.

Patrick _is_ there, sitting on his sunning rock, right next to a woman who has octopus tentacles instead of legs.

“What the _fuck_ ,” says Sharpy.

“Peeks is a mermaid,” explains Abby, sounding very un-alarmed by everything. The girls are a bit frightened, but Abby just holds their hands tightly. “And I think that that’s the sea witch who turned him human.”

“I thought he was—” starts Sharpy.

“No,” cuts in Jonny. “He wasn’t making it up.”

“You’ve been fucking a _fish_ ,” says Sharpy.

“Bad word Daddy!” scolds Sadie.

Jonny toes off his still nasty and still wet sneakers, leaving his socks on top of them before he wades into the water. “Peekaboo?” he calls.

“Oh, he _is_ very handsome,” says the mysterious sea witch when Jonny is close enough to the sunning rock to hear them.

Patrick nods wholeheartedly. He smiles at Jonny, slipping right off the rock and into Jonny’s arms, looking well and happy and not like he’s struggling to breathe. Jonny catches him easily.

“I am Ursula,” introduces the sea witch. Her hair is long and silver, her lips a bright red. She’s a bit on the plump side, but she’s gorgeous, skin a light purple and breasts covered by black sea-shells. She stretches out a tentacle to touch Jonny’s arms gently. “And you must be Jonny.”

Jonny nods, settling Patrick more comfortably against his chest. He’s reminded of the first time they met, when he had to free Patrick from the net.

Ursula smile, kind and gentle. There’s an oldness about her, like she’s a millennium old but only looks forty. “My spell was supposed to last forever, but I’m afraid Patrick’s heart is meant for the sea.” Patrick makes a small noise, recoiling in shyness, cheeks going red. “I knew when I saw him on the beach that he was meant to return to the sea. I’m afraid I didn’t end the spell at the best of times.”

This isn’t new information for Jonny. He’s always know that Patrick’s heart truly belongs to the sea. No matter how much he wants to be on land with Jonny, his heart was never meant for it. Patrick belongs to the sea and only to the sea.

“The sea is where he needs to remain,” says Ursula, frowning. “I’m sorry.”

Jonny looks down at Patrick. He can see it in Patrick’s eyes that Ursula is telling the truth. Patrick needs to remain in the sea. “Will I ever see you again?”

Patrick sits up as best as he can, cupping Jonny’s face to kiss him, soft and sweet and slow.

“You’ll see each other again,” says Ursula. “But I’m sure Patrick’s family would like to see him.”

At the mention of his family, Patrick’s eyes get wide. He nods, looking desperate to see them. Oh, how he’s probably missed them.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” says Jonny, letting Patrick fall from his arms.

Patrick squeezes his hand.

“On the next full moon,” says Ursula, climbing down from her rock. “Look for him at dusk at the next full moon.”

Jonny cups Patrick’s face one more time. “The girls will be upset if you don’t come back.”

Patrick nods, blue bow still in his hair.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

On the next full moon, Jonny marches down to the nursery, Juliette’s leash in hand. He sits in the sand, flipping through a book on Greek mythology as Juliette chews on a stick. He has all day to wait, so he does, burying his toes in the sand.

At dusk, Juliette stops chewing on a stick. She lifts her head, looking out at the horizon. It doesn’t take long for her to get up, front down in the water, behind up in the air to initiate play.

The sun hurts Jonny’s eyes, making it impossible for him to look at the sea, but then, as if emerging from nowhere, is Patrick, dress silver and shiny as he walks from the water, smile bright, arms spread wide, blue bow still in his air.

Jonny stands, and then Patrick is in his arms, laughing as Jonny spins him around, Juliette barking at their feet.

Jonny sets Patrick down in the sand. Patrick looks so bright and happy, blue eyes glistening as he cups Jonny’s face and kisses him.

“How long are you mine for?” Jonny asks when they pull apart.

“Forever,” says Patrick.

“Patrick,” starts Jonny.

Patrick giggles. He touches a shell necklace around his neck that Jonny hadn’t noticed before. “I kiss and Ursula will come.” He cups Jonny’s jaw with one hand.

Jonny smiles, running his fingers over the small, yellow shell. “How long are you mine for?”

“Always and forever,” answers Patrick.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can catch me on tumblr as buuckyys and on twitter as buucckyys.


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